UC-NRLF 


m   ...       ,     . 


GIFT  OF 
Slla  Sterling  Mighels 


4  - 


THE 


FIVE  DAYS    KNTKRTAINMENTS 

WKNIWORTH    (;RAN(;b 


FRANCIS    TURNER    PALGRAVE 

lute  l-'cUou  vf  K.vfter  Ccflc^e  O.rford 


'^^■i 


r.os'i'o.N :   KDr.KRTS  i;R()'rm:ks. 

MACMILLAN  K^Vi  CO 

IHGS 


t^'-Uf 


GIFT  OF 


TO 

CECIL,    FRANK,     AND    GWKXLLIAX 

THESE    STORIES 

WRITTEN    BEFORE    THEY    WERE    1K)RX    OR    THOUGHT    OF 

ARE    DEDICATED 

BY    THEIR    AFFECTIONATE    FATHER 

Ajtgusi,  i86S 


?9 

m 


ILLUSTRATIONS 


The  designs  tJirongJioiit  are  by 
Arthur  Hughes,  Windsor  Street,  Putney. 

The  line-engraving  on  the  Title-page  by 
Charles  Henry  Jeens,  67,  St.  Paul's  Road,  Camden  Square. 

The  ivoodcnts  by 
James  Cooper,  188,  Strand, 

Printed  by 
R.   Clay,  Son,  and  Taylor,  Bread  Street  Hill. 


CONTENTS 


I'AGE 

INTRODUCTION i 


FIRST    DAY 

ARTHUR'S  FIRST  TALE 
FLORIO    AND   FIAMMETTA ii 

EMILY'S  FIRST   TALE 
THE   PRINCESS    LUISANTE 21 

CHARLES'   FIRST  TALE 

ADELA'S   DREAM 30 

ELEANOR'S  FIRST   TALE 

BLIND    MARGARET 45 

ANNA'S  FIRST  TALE 
EYES   AND   NO   EYES 55 

SECOND   DAY 

EMILY'S  SECOND    TALE 

ORPHEUS    AND    EURYDICE 65 


X 


CONTENTS 


ANNA'S  SECOND    TALE 

PAGE 

FLORIZEL   AND  ROSELLA 72 

ELEANOR'S   SECOND    TALE 
THE  NEW  DANAIDES        82 

ARTHUR'S  SECOND    TALE 
THE   DISAPPOINTED    PRINCE 91 

CHARLES'   SECOND    TALE 
THE  UNCAGED  LION 100 

THIRD    DAY 

CHARLES'  THIRD    TALE 
THE    GREEDY    BEAR       .113 

ANNA'S    THIRD    TALE 
SELIM    AND   ABDALLAH 123 

ARTHUR'S   THIRD    TALE 
THE   THIEF   IN   THE   FAMILY 132 

EMILY'S    THIRD    TALE 
CERISA 143 

ELEANOR'S    THIRD    TALE 
THE   POOR   NOBLE 151 

FOURTH    DAY 

ELEANOR'S  FOURTH    TALE 
THE    MAN   WITHOUT    A    NOSE 164 

CHARLES'  FOURTH  TALE 
THE   THREE    RAVENS 177 


• 


COXTENTS  xi 

AKTIfUIi'S  FOURTH    TALE 
THE  YOUNG  QUIXOTE '187 

ANNA'S   FOURTH  TALE 

THE    PEASANT   COUNTESS 198 

EMILY'S  FOURTH    TALE 
SULEYMAN  AND  THE  CALENDARS       213 

FIFTH    DAY 

ANNA'S   FIFTH    TALE 
THE   MODERN    MIDAS 227 

ELEANOR'S   FIFTH    TALE 
PAWS    OFF 241 

CHARLES'  FIFTH   TALE 
THE   WHITE    SNAKE 252 

EMILY'S  FIFTH  TALE 
YIOLA       268 

ARTHUR'S    FIFTH    TALE 
THE   GIPSY    GIRI 2S3 

.      MRS.   WENTlVORTirS    TALE 

THE  NEW  GRISELDA 299 


CONCLUSION 325 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS 

PAGE 

Eyes  and  No  Eyes To  face  lo 

FlAMMETTA   AND    FlORIO l6 

The  Barber  receiving  Forty  Stripes 6i 

The  New  Dan  aides To  face  63 

Orpheus  and  Eurydice 66 

The  Child  and  the  Lion in 

Cerisa To  face  112 

The  Bear  King 117 

Count  Leonardo  and  the  Pheasant 155 

The  Man  without  a  Nose To  face  163 

Clementine's  Sketch 168 

Rose  and  Edouard 206 

Viola To  face  227 

Lenardo 264 

Viola  and  her  Child  cast  into  the  Sea 277 

The  New  Griselda To  face  299 

Lucy's  Hymn    ...         .          328 


THE 

FIVE    DAYS'    ENTERTAINMENTS 


cittfoortlj  6nin0C 


INTRODUCTION 

It  was  holiday  time  at  JMiss  C^obljam's  school,  but 
all  the  children  had  not  gfohe  hom^,  and  in  conse- 
quence did  not  find  it.  quite  ;so  ^njiUcb  o(  abol'.day  as 
they  had  expected.  Poor  thuigs  !  the  parents  of  some 
twelve  or  fourteen  of  them  lived  across  sea  and  land — 
in  India — and  so  they  were  forced  to  leave  their  little 
ones  at  school  the  whole  year  round,  unless  some 
good-natured  friend  or  relation  kindly  offered  to  take 
them  to  their  houses  for  Christmas  or  Midsummer. 

There  were  Emily,  Arthur,  Charles,  Anna,  and 
Eleanor :  or  Arthur,  Emily,  Charles,  &c. — in  fact 
though  I  have  used  only  their  Christian  name,  for 
convenience  sake,  as  they  did  in  talking, — "  so  Chris- 
tians should  call  one  another," — I  might  fill  up  half 

B 


2  FIVE  DA  KS"  ENTERTAINMENTS 

the  page  if  I  tried  to  arrange  them  in  all  the  ways 
they  would  stand  in.  Arthur  was  brother  to  Anna, 
and  Charles  to  Margaret,  one  of  the  younger  chil- 
dren: they  were  both  at  school  in  the  country,  and 
were  allowed,  by  Miss  Cobham's  kindness,  to  spend 
their  summer  holidays  at  her  schoolhouse,  as  they 
had  no  other  home  wherein  to  meet  their  sisters. 

Besides  these,  and  among  the  little  ones,  whose 
names  I  pass  over,  was  little  Lucy  Wentworth,  who 
had  been  left  at  Miss  Cobham's  for  a  week  or  ten 
days,  to  recover  her  strength  after  an  attack  of  cough 
from  which  she  had  been  lately  suffering. 

On  the  day  I  am  now  speaking  of,  about  the 
beginning  of  July,  Lucy  had  been  allowed  by  the 
doctor  the  .pleasure  of  a  walk  for  the  first  time  since 
her  illness  ;  and  all  the  children,  by  their  kind  mistress, 
Miss  Cobham's  It^ye,  hnd  in  consequence  set  out  to 
take  a  long  stroll  in  the  fields  near  the  school.  They 
were  put  under  the  charge  of  Arthur  and  Emily,  the 
two  eldest  among  them,  who  were  each  nearly  four- 
teen years  old,  and  were  best  fitted  and  not  a  little 
pleased  to  be  considered  the  leaders  of  the  party. 
Hunting  up  and  down  among  the  hedges,  and  gather- 
ing wild  roses  and  hyacinths,  the  morning  went  by, 
and  they  then  sat  down  to  the  luncheon  they  had 
brought  with  them,  on  a  bank  in  the  furthest  field,  by 
the  side  of  the  river  Colne. 

**  Ah,"  cried  little  Lucy,  starting  up,  and  upsetting 


INTRODUCTION 


her  saucer  of  gooseberry  tart  into  Eleanor's  hq),  "  I 
am  so  sorry — no — I  am  so  glad,  I  mean.  You  know 
mamma  is  coming  to-night  to  take  me  home,  and  I 
shall  have  all  the  garden,  and  the  park,  and  the  lawn 
to  run  about  in.  How  I  wish  you  were  all  coming 
with  me  ! "  she  continued,  for  a  little  disappointment 
arose  on  the  faces  of  the  rest  at  the  thought  that  they 
would  have  no  such  pleasures.  "  I  wonder  whether 
mamma  would  let  you  come  !  Our  house  is  so  big. 
so  very  big,  and  now  all  the  rest  are  away  there  would 
be  plenty  of  room." 

"  I  wish  it  could  be,  but  I  am  afraid  it  can't — and 
can't  is  cannot,"  said  Eleanor  ;  and  then  the  talk  went 
off  to  other  matters. 

When  the  children  returned  to  the  school,  they 
found  that  Mrs.  Wentworth  had  already  arrived  there. 

"  Well,  Lucy  darling,"  she  cried,  kissing  her  little 
girl,  "  how  have  you  enjoyed  your  walk  } " 

"Oh  mamma,  so  much — so  very  much;  but  I  have 
something  to  say  to  you.  How  I  wish  I  could 
recollect  it ! " 

"I  know  what  it  was,"  said  Anna;  **we  were  all 
looking  about  in  the  hedges,  and  I  spied  out  a  wTen's 
nest,  with  the  little  eggs  in  it,  and  Lucy  wished  she 
could  take  you  to  see  it." 

"  Charlie  w^anted  to  bring  it  here  for  you,"  said  Lucy. 
"  You  know,  he  knows  all  about  birds,  beasts,  and 
fishes,  and  he  said  he  could  take  such  care  that  the 

B  2 


FIVE  DAYS'  ENTERTAINMENTS 


old  birds  would  not  be  angry  with  him  for  moving  the 
nest,  and  that  he  would  put  it  back  directly  quite  safe 
in  the  place  where  we  found  it." 

"  I  have  heard  Charlie  is  a  great  naturalist,"  said 
Mrs.  Wentworth, — "there's  a  long  word  for  you,  Lucy  ; 
you  must  ask  him  to  tell  you  what  it  means." 

**  Such  a  funny  thing  happened  to  Eleanor,  mamma," 
cried  Lucy,  not  noticing  her  little  companion's  im- 
ploring looks  for  silence  ;  "  you  know  she  is  so  short- 
sighted, she  cannot  see  nearly  so  Tar  as  Anna — she  is 
so  much  the  cleverest  and  quickest  of  us  all  !  And 
there  was  an  old  man  lying  down  asleep  in  one  corner 
of  the  long  field,  and  Eleanor  thought  he  was  the 
trunk  of  a  tree  lying  there,  and  jumped  up  upon  him." 

Here  Eleanor,  who  had  retreated  to  a  corner  of  the 
room,  burst  into  tears. 

"  My  dear  child,"  said  Mrs.  Wentworth,  softly,"  you 
should  never  say  anything  that  would  vex  you  if  you 
heard  it  said  about  yourself.  You  would  not  like  to 
be  taken  for  the  trunk  of  a  tree,  or  to  take  an  old  man 
for  one.  You  know  Eleanor  cannot  help  it — go  up 
and  tell  her  how  sorry  you  are  to  have  vexed  her." 

"  Oh  mamma — but  how  I  wish  I  could  remember 
what  I  wanted  to  say  to  you,"  cried  Lucy,  and  ran  off 
to  obey  her  mother's  order, 

**  You  must  observe  many  interesting  varieties  of 
disposition  and  ability  among  your  young  pupils," 
said  Mrs.  Wentworth,  turning  to  Miss  Cobham.    ''  With 


INTRODUCTION  .■> 

tlicir  fresh  minds  and  frcc-spcaking  ton<,uies,  a  few 
minutes'  talk,  even,  lets  one  into  the  open  secrets  of 
their  character." 

"  It  is  one  of  the  alleviations  of  my  employment," 
said  Miss  Cobham. 

"  You  must  be  sorry  to  see  so  many  of  them,  how- 
ever, left  here,  and  unable  fully  to  enjoy  their  holidays." 
"  Oh  no— thank  you— some  of  them  have  a  great 
talent  for  amusing  and  pleasing  the  rest.  I  really 
think  they  do  not  find  it  dull.  Emily  tells  them  fairy 
stories  without  number,  and  we  find  the  evenings  go 
by  quickly,  with  her  and  Arthur's  help.  Where  is 
Arthur  }  "  she  said,  looking  round.  "  Oh,  I  daresay  he 
has  already  gone  off  to  his  room  to  study  his  favourite 
new-old  books,  Brewster's  '  Natural  Magic'  and  the 
'  Demonology  and  Witchcraft' " 

"  I  am  glad  such  books  are  not  shut  out  of  your 
library,"  said  Mrs.  Wentworth.  ''  There  is  some- 
thing flat  and  prosy  in  putting  away  fairy  tales  and 
adventures  from  the  children,  and  preaching  to  them 
about  physical  science,  which  after  all  is  never  one 
quarter  so  interesting  or  useful  for  most  of  us  as  any- 
thing which  has  to  do  with  other  human  creatures. 
Yet,  at  the  same  time,  in  case  of  fairy  stories,  it  is 
right  to  set  before  them  distinctly  the  true  nature  and 
character  of  such  fictions.  Without  this,  it  is  as  easy 
to  raise  up  foolish  fears  in  their  imaginations  now,  as 
in  the  days  of  King  James.      There  is,  I  often  think,'' 


FIVE  DAYS'  ENTERTAINMENTS 


she  continued,  smiling,  but  speaking  seriously,  *'  little 
need  to  tell  people  to  '  walk  in  the  old  paths ' — so 
naturally  does  the  mind  revert  to  former  beliefs,  and 
reclothe  itself  in  temporarily  cast-off  superstitions. 
There  is  a  circle  in  all  things.  People  think  they  have 
made  a  positive  advance  :  but  look,  and  we  shall 
often  see  whole  nations  winding  their  way  clumsily 
back  to  a  second  childhood.  And  what  an  odd 
thing  in  human  nature  it  is,  that  we  always  think 
we  are  advancing,  and  better  than  those  who  lived 
before  us  !  " 

This  somewhat  grave  and  schoolroom-like  dis- 
course was  broken  through  by  Lucy,  who  now,  run- 
ning up  to  her  mother  with  a  triumphant  air^  cried 
out, — 

''  I  remember  it  now,  mamma  ;  I  remember  it.  Oh, 
pray  do  do  it,  dear  mamma  ! — pray  do ! — it  will  be 
so  nice." 

"  But  what  is  it,  my  dear }  You  forget  you  have  not 
yet  told  me." 

"  Oh,  mamma,  can't  you  guess  }  It  is,  I  wish  so 
you  would  ask  all  the  children  here — all  of  us — to 
come  home  with  you  for  the  rest  of  the  holidays ! 
Just  think  what  walks  and  feasts  we  would  have 
together." 

Mrs.  Wentworth  smiled,  and  Miss  Cobham  begged 
her  not  to  think  of  giving  herself  so  much  trouble — 
repeating  what  she  had  said  before  on  the  subject. 


INTRODUCTION  7 


But  the  lady,  after  a  moment's  thought,  whicli 
seemed  an  age  of  delay  to  her  impatient  little 
daughter,  said  that  it  was  true  it  was  a  large 
party,  but  that  her  house  too  was  large  and  roomy 
also,  and  just  now  she  and  Lucy  were  left  alone  to 
occupy  it;  so  that,  if  Miss  Cobham  agreed,  she 
would  lodge  there  all  the  children  left  at  school 
during  the  last  week  of  their  holidays.  Mrs.  Went- 
worth  finished  by  adding  kindly,  "  You,  too,  dear  Miss 
Cobham,  must  need  a  holiday,  and  should  have  more 
of  one  than  you  can  expect  to  find  here.  I  am  sure  I 
ought  to  be  very  glad  to  show  any  little  kindness  to 
one  who  has  been  so  good  a  mother  lately  to  my 
little  girl." 

Miss  Cobham  begged  her  not  to  think  of  herself  in 
the  matter,  and  a  little  friendly  dispute  took  place, 
which  wound  up  with  a  full  consent  to  Mrs.  Went- 
worth's  proposal.  Only,  Miss  Cobham  would  not  be 
able  to  come  before  the  last  day,  to  fetch  her  little 
flock  back  to  the  fold  again. 

On  the  appointed  evening  the  whole  party,  large 
and  small,  were  safely  landed  at  Mrs.  Wentworth's 
house.  Wentworth  Grange  was  a  very  pretty  place, 
built  round  three  sides  of  a  square,  with  long  covered 
outside  galleries  connecting  room  with  room,  and 
opening  on  a  terrace  with  vases  and  stone  balustrades. 
Steps  led  down  from  this  to  a  carefully-kept  and 
gracefully-formed   flower-garden,  which  ran  along  the 


o  FIVE  DA  YS'  ENTERTAINMENTS 

south  side  of  the  house,  and  contained  a  large  con- 
servatory, opening  by  glass  doors  upon  the  main 
sitting-room — the  prettiest  of  all  possible  arrange- 
ments. 

Emily  and  Arthur  had  been  chosen  by  Miss  Cob- 
ham  to  be  the  leaders  of  the  party,  and  by  their  care 
all  were  quietly  settled  in  their  places ;  and  after 
a  well-provided  and  well-eaten  supper,  the  younger 
ones,  including  Lucy  Wentworth,  were  dismissed  for 
the  evening. 

The  five  elder  children — Emily,  Arthur,  Charles, 
Anna,  and  Eleanor,  remained  for  a  few  minutes  ;  and 
Mrs.  Wentworth,  holding  up  her  finger  to  enforce 
silence,  said, — 

"  It  will  be  very  easy  for  you  to  amuse  yourselves, 
dear  children,  if  the  weather  continues  fine — but  if  it 
should  not,  we  must  think  of  some  plan  to  prevent 
you  all  from  finding  your  visit  dull." 

"  Oh,  I  am  sure  it  will  be  fine,"  said  Eleanor  and 
Anna  together. 

"  I  wish  it  may,"  said  Charles  ;  "  but  as  I  came 
here  I  saw  the  ducks  washing  themselves,  and  the 
cows  standing  with  their  heads  up  in  the  air, — which 
are  regular  signs  of  several  days  of  wet  weather." 

They  all  laughed  at  the  young  naturalist's  prophecy, 
and  Mrs.  Wentworth  then  went  on  to  say,  that  in  case 
they  should  be  unable  to  go  out  they  had  better  fix 
on  some  regular  plan.    Part  of  the  day  might  be  spent 


INTRODUCTION  9 

in  a  lari^e  upper  play-room,  where  battledore  and 
shuttlecock,  a  pianoforte,  and  other  contrivances  for 
dancing  and  romping  existed,  (with  all  which  part  of 
the  entertainment  I  am  very  sorry  to  say  we  shall 
have  nothing  to  do,)  but  this  would  not  be  sufficient 
for  the  whole  time,  and  they  must  find  some  quiet 
amusement  to  fill  up  the  rest.  "  Even  in  our  games," 
their  kind  hostess  observed,  "  we  should  have  a  fixed 
plan.  It  is  surprizing  how  much  better  things  go  on 
when  only  the  filling-up  and  the  details  are  left  to 
chance.  What  an  ugly  garden  we  should  have  if  the 
pinks  and  roses  were  scattered  at  random  over  the 
turf  and  the  borders  ! " 

The  children  were  pleased,  and  they  quickly  settled 
their  plan,  agreeing  to  keep  it  a  secret  from  the  younger 
ones,  that  they  might  guess  and  find  out  what  it  was 
as  each  day  went  by.  And  for  the  same  reason  I 
shall  leave  my  little  readers — if  I  have  as  attentive 
listeners  as  Emily,  Arthur,  Charles,  Anna,  and 
Eleanor  had — to  use  their  wits  and  try  to  unravel 
for  themselves  the  method  and  order  of  the  successive 
stories.  #v 


lO  FIVE  DAYS'  ENTERTAINMENTS 


FIRST  DAY 


They  alone  that  seek  may  find  : 
Eyes  were  fashion'd  for  the  bhnd. 


As  Charles  had  prophesied,  so  it  happened.  More 
rain  falls  in  July  (though  we  never  should  have 
thought  it)  than  in  any  other  month  of  the  year :  and 
this  day  was  one  continued  shower-bath ;  the  air 
seemed  to  have  somehow  lost  itself,  and  got  mixed 
up  with  the  rain,  so  that  you  could  not  see  the  cedar 
on  the  lawn,  and  the  grass  was  so  thick  with  water, 
that  it  looked  more  white  than  green. 

But  Emily  and  Arthur  were  excellent  managers. 
The  morning  went  by  pleasantly  enough  ;  and  so  soon 
as  an  early  dinner  was  over,  the  whole  party  were, 
under  their  direction,  called  together  to  the  large 
drawing-room,  and  ranged  on  stools,  chairs,  and  sofas, 
in  full  expectation  of  something  agreeable. 

"  Now,  Arthur,  are  you  ready } "  said  Mrs.  Went- 
worth,  turning  to  him  as  he  stood  behind  a  little 
table,  fidgetting  with  a  book  of  travels,  as  if  he 
thought  it  was  about  to  open    its  leaves  and  speak 


EVKS   AND   NO    EVES 


i 

FLORTO  AND  FIAMMETTA  X  1 


for  him;  then  to  the  children — "Attend!  As  long 
as  the  rainy  weather  lasts,  we  have  fixed  on  a  set  of 
stories  to  tell  you  every  day  ;  and  you  must  listen 
attentively,  and  try  to  make  out  what  there  is  alike  in 
the  different  tales.  Random  and  Chance,  away  ! " 
she  said,  smiling,  and  tracing  a  circle  in  the  air  with 
her  right  forefinger,  "  Everything  is  fixed,  arranged, 
and  ordered." 

An  awful  silence  followed :  the  children  held  their 
breath,  and  looked  graver  than  judges  (but  not  graver 
than  judges  ought  to  look)  at  the  commencement  of 


ARTHUR'S    FIRST    TALE 

FLORIO  AND    FIAMMETTA 

There  was  once  on  a  time  a  certain  king  of  Naples, 
named  Alfonso.  His  wife  was  dead,  and  all  his  hopes 
were  set  upon  his  two  children — the  Prince  Carlo  and 
the  Princess  Fiammetta.  He  was  very  fond  of  them, 
and  would  often  say,  shaking  his  head,  '*  Carlo,  when 
he  becomes  king,  will  reign  so  well,  that  no  one  will 
regret  the  death  of  his  old  father ;  and  as  for  Fiam- 
metta, she  is  so  beautiful  and  so  good,  that  I  shall 
never  find  any  prince  worthy  to  be  her  husband." 

No  one  contradicted  him,  for  in  Naples  people  do 
not   often  contradict  kings  ;  and   besides,  the  young 


FIVE  DAYS'  ENTERTAINMENTS 


Prince  and  Princess  were  so  excellent,  that  everybody 
loved  them,  and  only  wished  that  their  good  fortune 
might  equal  their  deserving. 

As  Carlo  grew  up,  every  day  he  became  more 
brave  and  noble  and  beautiful — so  much  so,  that  the 
people  of  Naples,  who  are  very  superstitious,  used  to 
say  that  the  fairies  must  have  blessed  him.  And  his 
father  often  thought  that,  as  he  was  now  an  old  man, 
he  would  give  up  his  throne,  and  have  the  pleasure  of 
seeing  his  son  king  during  his  own  lifetime. 

But  the  best  plans  often  come  to  nothing,  and  so  it 
was  in  this  case.  I  have  just  said  that  the  people  of 
Naples  are  very  superstitious,  and  I  must  now  explain 
further  what  I  mean  by  this. 

Everybody  has  heard  of  witches,  fairies,  and  the 
like,  and  knows  that  they  now  frighten  no  one  but 
children. 

("  Oh,  we  are  not  at  all  afraid  of  them — not  at  all," 
interrupted  several  little  voices. 

**  Very  well,"  continued  Arthur :  "  I  dare  say  not  ; 
but  we  shall  see.) 

Now  every  one  in  Naples  believes  in  such  things, 
and  the  young  Prince  believed  like  the  rest.  His 
nurse  especially  had  taught  him  that,  besides 
lady-witches  (who  were  once  said  to  be  found  all  the 
world  over),  there  were  certain  men  in  Naples 
who  had  a  magical  power  of  hurting  any  one  they 
chose,  by  looking  steadily  at  him.     Such  people  are 


FLORIO  AND  FIAMMETTA  1 3 

said  to  have  an  'evil  eye;'  and  if  they  Hke  to  turn 
it  on  anybody,  he  is  directly  seized  with  illness,  or 
meets  with  some  horrid  misfortune,  unless  he  can 
hold  out  his  forefingers  thus,  (said  Arthur,  stretching 
out  the  first  fingers  of  his  right  hand  in  the  shape  of  a 
letter  V,)  the  very  moment  that  any  one  with  the  '  evil 
eye'  comes  into  the  room.  And  for  fear  lest  they 
should  not  always  recollect  to  do  this,  they  carry 
little  hands  of  red  coral,  with  the  fingers  all  ready 
out,  with  them  ;  and  all  over  their  houses  they  fix  up 
figures  of  hands,  or  sometimes  a  pair  of  deer's  horns, 
to  keep  themselves  from  being  hurt.  I  daresay  you 
will  think  this  very  foolish,  but  so  it  is  to  this  day. 

You  know  those  tall  rods  which  are  fixed  against 
chimneys  to  carry  away  the  lightning,  and  take  it 
safe  down  into  the  ground — do  you  not  }  So  the 
whole  of  the  palace  of  King  Alfonso  was  filled  with 
horns,  to  conduct  the  *  evil  eye '  away — some  in 
the  hall,  under  a  glass  case,  like  an  ornament  or  a 
stuffed  bird ;  some  on  the  passage-walls,  like  hat- 
pegs  ;  some  in  the  sitting-rooms  and  bed-rooms :  and 
Prince  Carlo,  although  in  other  things  he  was  very 
brave  and  spirited,  yet  fully  believed  in  all  he  had 
heard  of  the  *  evil  eye,*  and  how  it  could  be  averted 
or  turned  off  from  him  ;  and  every  day,  as  he  grew 
older,  he  believed  it  more  and  more,  till,  though 
courageous  enough  in  other  things,  would  shudder  or 
turn  pale  if  any  one  happened  to  fix  his  eyes  on  him. 


1 4  FIVE  DA  KS"  ENTERTAINMENTS 


And  Fiammetta,  who  loved  her  brother  much,  and 
looked  up  to  him  for  example  in  everything,  was 
soon  brought  to  think  as  he  did  ;  for  fear  is,  of  all 
diseases,  the  most  catching,  and  indeed  is  the  disease 
which  people  often  catch  and  die  of,  in  spite  of  all 
the  long  names  which  doctors  give  it. 

It  happened  one  day,  as  he  went  out  hunting  in  the 
hot  sun,  that  Prince  Carlo  caught  a  very  dangerous 
fever.  When  he  began  to  recover,  he  was  allowed  for 
health's  sake  to  walk  in  the  palace  garden.  As,  how- 
ever, he  had  not  yet  regained  his  full  strength,  his 
sister  went  with  him  to  lend  him  help :  and  they 
walked  for  some  time  in  a  very  lively  manner  together. 
But  as  they  turned  round  an  orange-tree  at  the  corner 
of  one  of  the  walks,  suddenly  they  came  upon  a 
black  servant  of  King  Alfonso's  standing  and  looking 
hard  at  them.  The  Prince  trembled  and  almost 
fainted  at  the  sight ;  and  when  the  servant,  who  could 
not  tell  what  was  the  matter,  and  was  thanking  God 
to  see  his  dear  young  master  so  nearly  recovered 
from  the  fever,  ran  up  to  help  the  Princess  to  carry 
her  brother  into  the  palace,  Carlo  screamed  out,  "  Oh, 
not  him  !  not  him  !    He  will  kill  me — I  know  he  will !" 

The  Prince  was  at  once  put  to  bed,  and  the  doctors 
sent  for.  They  declared  nothing  could  be  worse  than 
what  had  happened  ; — that  with  the  sudden  shock  of 
fear  he  had  gone  through,  his  fever  had  come  back 
upon  him,  and  that  he  would  die  if  he  were  not  kept 


FLORIO  AND  FIAMMETTA 


quite  quiet.  But  it  was  in  vain  that  they  gave  him 
soothing  medicines  :  they  could  not  touch  the  fever 
which  was  in  his  mind.  All  day  he  kept  calling  out, 
"  I  see  his  eye  !  I  see  his  eye  !  I  see  his  black  eye 
looking  at  me  ! " — till  at  last  he  could  say  no  more. 
His  strength  failed,  and  he  died  in  the  belief  that  he 
had  been  bewitched  by  the  '  evil  eye '  of  the  negro 
servant.  This  was,  as  you  may  imagine,  a  sad  blow 
to  Carlo's  father  in  his  old  age ;  but  he  bore  it  with 
what  patience  he  could. 

They  buried  the  Prince  with  all  proper  solemnities, 
— and  after  a  few  days  he  was  followed  to  the  grave 
by  the  affectionate  negro,  who  himself  died  of  very 
grief  at  the  thought  of  the  evil  he  had  occasioned. 

It  might  have  been  hoped  that  the  sight  of  all  this 
would  have  cured  Fiammetta  of  her  belief  in  the  '  evil 
eye  ; '  when  she  had  all  these  examples,  not  only  what  a 
fancy  it  was,  but  how  much  harm  the  belief  in  it  had 
done.  But  though  her  father  saw  it,  it  was  just  other- 
wise with  his  daughter.  She  thought  her  brother's 
death  was  a  clear  proof  of  the  reality  of  the  '  evil  eye  ;' 
she  said  the  most  clever  things  imaginable  to  prove 
that  effects  never  come  without  causes,  just  like  a 
philosopher  of  the  nineteenth  century ;  and  she  grew 
daily  more  timid  and  superstitious  in  consequence. 

Her  father  the  King,  who  had  been  so  much  grieved 
at  his  dear  son's  death,  was  almost  equally  pained  to 
see  his  daughter  s  state,  fearing  lest  it  might  end  with 


i6 


FIVE  DAYS'  ENTERTAINMENTS 


her  as  it  had  with  Carlo.  In  order  to  give  her  some- 
thing else  to  think  of,  he  sent  to  the  King  of  Albania 
to  propose  a  marriage  between  his  eldest  son  and  the 
Princess  Fiammetta.  In  due  time  Florio — for  that 
was  the  name  of  the  young  Prince — appeared  at  the 
court  of  Naples.  He  was  very  tall  and  handsome, 
with  bright  hair  and  blue,  gentle  eyes  :  but  at  the 
same  time  he  was  very  brave  and  spirited,  and  sat 
his  horse  better  than  any  of  Alfonso's  courtiers. 


So  next  day  the   King  determined  to  bring  him 


before  his  daughter. 


Fiammetta  was  sitting  in  her 


FLORIO  AND  FIAMMETTA  I  7 

room,  embroidering  at  the  frame,  when  Florio  was 
led  in.  He  knelt  at  her  feet,  and  after  the  fashion 
of  those  times,  begged  her  to  cast  her  eyes  on  the 
beggar  at  her  throne  (so  he  called  himself,  but  he 
was  a  very  well-dressed  beggar  indeed),  and  to- 
deign  to  accept  the  trifle  which  he  had  dared  to 
bring  her — which  consisted  of  nothing  less  than  a 
beautiful  coronet  of  pure  gold,  set  with  flame-like 
rubies.  Fiammetta,  who  had  covered  her  face  the 
first  moment,  looked  pleased,  and  seeing  a  hand-, 
some  young  prince  before  her,  soon  laid  aside  her 
fears.  She  welcomed  him  kindly  ;  and  after  a  few 
days  every  one  said  the  King  might  order  the  wed- 
ding robes  to  be  made  as  quickly  as  he  thought 
proper,  and  the  court  milliner  could  condescend  to 
get  them  ready. 

Fiammetta  was  very  beautiful,  as  all  princesses  are  ; 
so  it  was  natural  that  the  Prince,  who  had  heard  of 
the  foolish  fancies  of  the  people  of  Naples,  but  only 
laughed  at  them,  should  have  his  eyes  often  fixed 
upon  her.  She  was  standing  alone  one  day  before  a 
great  mirror  in  the  hall,  arranging  her  hair,  when  in 
came  Florio  quite  silently.  As  he  could  not  see  hei' 
face,  he  peeped  softly  over  her  shoulder  into  the  glass. 
What  was  his  surprize,  when  Fiammetta  shrieked  out 
violently,  and  ran  away  without  looking  at  him  !  In 
vain  he  called  to  her  to  stop ;  she  rushed  into  her  own 
room,  screaming  out  to  her  old  nurse,  "  He  has  the 

C 


1 8  FIVE  DAYS'  ENTERTAINMENTS 


*  evil  eye,'  I  know  he  has  ;  I  saw  it  looking  over  my 
shoulder  just  now." 

Florio  for  several  days  could  not  get  a  glimpse  of 
the  Princess,  nor  discover  what  it  was  that  had 
frightened  her.  At  last  he  bethought  himself  of  the 
old  nurse.  He  made  her  a  present  of  a  handsome  set 
of  beads,  and  this  immediately  loosened  her  tongue, 
and  she  told  him  that  Fiammetta  was  sure  that  he 
had  the  '  evil  eye,'  and  that  she  was  determined  never 
to  see  him  again. 

Florio,  who  had  been  taught  to  know,  as  I  have 
said,  that  such  superstitions  as  those  of  the  Neapolitan 
people  were  not  only  fancies,  but  fancies  as  hurtful  as 
they  were  foolish,  directly  made  up  his  mind.  He 
went  to  Alfonso,  and  said  to  him — 

"  Fiammetta,  your  lovely  daughter,  has  hidden  her- 
self, and  will  not  let  me  look  on  her  beauty ;  for  she 
believes  I  have " 

"  The  *  evil  eye,'  "  said  his  Majesty,  interrupting  him; 
"  I  know  it.  Alas,  what  evil  has  that  belief  caused  in 
my  family  ! " 

Florio  was  silent  a  moment.  Then  he  said  :  "  If  I 
have  the  'evil  eye,'  as  Fiammetta  thinks,  she  must  also 
believe — for  so  her  nurse  has  taught  her — that  even  if 
she  did  not  see  me,  even  if  I  were  in  the  dark,  and 
looked  at  her,  she  would  directly  feel  some  dreadful 
shock  or  pain  in  consequence.  Now  persuade  her  to 
come   with   your    Majesty    into    the   Treasure   vault 


FLO  RIO  AND  FIAMMETTA  1 9 


beneath    the    palace,    and    try   whether   it    is    so   or 
not." 

And  then  the  Prince  privately  told  his  plan  to  the 
King.  The  King  agreed,  and  went  forth  without 
delay  to  summon  his  daughter  to  go  through  this 
most  formidable  trial. 

In  a  few  minutes  a  page  came  to  bring  Florio  the 
keys  of  the  vault,  the  hollow,  hollow  vault,  and  to  tell 
him  to  hide  himself  in  it.  He  took  up  his  place  close 
to  the  door,  and  directly  afterwards  he  heard  the  King 
and  Fiammetta,  who  were  talking  on  the  steps  as 
they  came  down  towards  him. 

"  I  know  I  shall  see  him  in  the  dark ! "  she  cried. 
"  I  know  I  shall  feel  his  eyes  on  me  ! " 

"  If  Florio  does  you  any  harm,"  said  the  King,  "  I 
promise  my  daughter,  on  my  royal  word,  that  he  shall 
be  shut  up  in  this  vault  and  never  allowed  to  come 
out,  or  have  anything  to  eat  but  dry  bread  and  water." 

This  seemed  to  comfort  Fiammetta  very  much,  and 
in  they  came. 

The  King,  as  he  had  agreed  with  Florio,  immediately 
closed  the  door,  and  took  up  his  station  with  Fiam- 
metta by  his  side  without  moving  further.  Indeed 
the  vault  was  perfectly  dark — for  it  had  no  windows 
— so  that  they  could  not  venture  on  without  danger. 
A  slight  rustling  and  moving  was  now  heard  at  the 
opposite  end  of  the  chamber,  and  Fiammetta,  fixing 
her  eyes  on  the  spot,  screamed  out  at  once — 

C   2 


20  FIVE  DA  YS'  EXTERTAIXMEXTS 

"  There  he  is  !  I  see  him  !  I  see  his  fiery  eyes  look- 
insf  rieht  at  me  ! "  and  she  almost  fainted  with  terror. 
But  at  that  moment  she  heard  a  gentle,  pleasant 
laugh  and  whisper  at  her  ear  ;  the  door  was  flung 
open,  and  Florio,  gently  taking  her  hand,  said — 

**  Was  it  indeed  my  eyes,  dear  Fiammetta,  that 
glared  at  you  ?  Am  I  indeed  so  terrible  to  look 
upon  ? "  and  as  he  spoke  he  pointed  to  the  opposite 
side  of  the  vault,  whence  the  sound  had  proceeded. 

Fiammetta  blushed,  smiled,  and  looked  as  he  di- 
rected. Alfonso's  page  stood  there,  holding  in  his 
arms  Fiammetta's  own  large,  favourite,  black  cat, 
who  was  indeed  staring  full  at  her,  and  seemed  as 
much  frightened  as  her  mistress,  and  with  better 
reason. 

Fiammetta  now  blushed  again,  and  lifting  up  her 
eyes  with  some  hesitation,  looked  steadily  on  the 
Prince's  face. 

"What  is  it  that  Fiammetta  sees  there  .'^"  said  he, 
smiling  rather  confidently. 

"  If  I  see  anything  in  your  ty&s,  Florio,"  she  replied, 
"  it  is  no  longer  what  is  evil — unless,"  she  added, 
whispering,  "  love  for  a  foolish  child,  like  Fiammetta, 
be  an  evil." 

"  Say,  who  once  was  a  child,  but,  I  am  sure,  is  so 
no  longer,"  said  Florio,  gently  kissing  her  hand,  and 
leading  her  again  into  open  daylight. 


THE  PRINCESS  LUIS  ANTE  21 

Arthur  made  a  little  bow  to  the  company  present. 
The  children,  who  had  sat  almost  breathless  with  fear 
and  expectation  up  to  that  moment,  burst  out  into  a 
cheerful  laugh,  and  one  of  them  asked,  **  What  became 
of  the  black  cat?"  But  before  Arthur  could  begin 
the  stor>^  of  the  black  cat,  Emily  made  him  sit  down, 
and  took  her  place  at  the  rosewood  table. 


EMILY'S     FIRST     TALE 

THE    PRINCESS   LUISANTE 

The  King  of  Hyrcania  had  one  only  daughter,  of 
whose  beauty  he  was  extremely  proud.  And  no  one 
could  say  that  she  was  not  beautiful,— her  long  brown 
hair  reached  almost  down  to  her  ankles,  her  cheeks 
made  the  roses  turn  white  with  envy  as  she  passed  by 
(as  you  may  still  see  in  the  garden),  and  her  forehead 
was  fairer  than  snowdrops.  But  for  all  that— or  from 
all  that— the  Princess  was  excessively  proud  and 
haughty.  And  what  she  was  most  proud  of  was  her 
eyes,  which  were  so  bright  and  piercing  that  whom- 
soever she  chose  to  fix  them  on  was  immediately 
dazzled,  as  if  he  had  been  struck  by  lightning,  and 
thenceforth  for  all  the  rest  of  his  life  remained  in  utter 
blindness.  And  it  was  on  account  of  this  magical 
power  in  her  eyes  that  she  was  called  the  Princess 
Luisantc,  or  Shining. 


2  2  FIVE  DA  VS'  ENTERTAINMENTS 

Many  of  the  neighbouring  princes  had  sought  her 
in  marriage,  but  none  of  them  pleased  her  fancy. 
One  was  too  tall,  and  she  bid  him  fetch  the  moon 
down  for  her,  as  she  had  a  mind  to  taste  green  cheese  ; 
another  was  too  short,  and  she  begged  him  not  to 
leave  his  stilts  in  the  hall  the  next  time  she  had  the 
honour  of  seeing  him  ;  a  third  was  too  thin,  and  she 
said  she  could  hear  the  wind  whistling  through  him  ; 
and  a  fourth  was  too  fat,  so  she  called  him  the  paviour's 
assistant,  and  told  him  to  walk  up  and  down  the  new 
road  they  were  making  in  front  of  the  palace.  And 
so  she  sent  them  all  away — some  without  even  seeing 
her,  and  they  were  the  most  fortunate — and  the  rest 
blinded  and  miserable.  And  she  declared  that  she 
would  never  marry  any  prince,  except  one  who 
should  be  able  to  look  her  steadily  in  the  face  without 
fear  or  injury. 

The  King  of  Hyrcania  was  much  grieved  at  his 
daughter's  folly,  although  he  admired  her  fine  eyes  ; 
but  advise  her  as  he  might,  he  might  as  well  have 
talked  to  the  sun  and  the  seven  stars,  so  little  atten- 
tion did  she  pay  him.  And  now  all  the  kings  and 
kings'  sons  began  to  say  that  Luisante  was  so  cruel 
and  proud,  and  that  her  pride,  too,  caused  her  to  look 
so  frightful,  and  so  spoiled  her  beauty,  that  they 
would  make  her  no  offers  of  marriage,  and  that  thus 
she  would  receive  a  just  punishment. 

So  some   time  passed.     But  one   evening  it   hap- 


THE  PRINCESS  LUIS  ANTE  23 

pcncd  that  as  Luisaiitc  was  l>'ing  on  a  couch  in  a 
pavihon  or  summer-house,  within  her  father's  garden, 
news  was  brought  her  that  a  stranger  had  arrived  at 
the  palace,  and  desired  to  see  the  Princess. 

"  To  see  me  !  "  she  cried  :  "  and  pray  what  may  the 
name  of  this  brave  gentleman  be  ?  " 

**  The  Prince  Aquila,"  her  maid  replied :  '*  I  sav/ 
him  at  the  gate.  Let  me  bid  him  depart;  he  is  not 
worthy  to  visit  your  Highness." 

"  I  will  see  him  for  myself,"  said  Luisante,  proudly. 

The  stranger  was  a  short  but  strong-looking  man, 
with  a  black,  frizzled  beard,  and  bright,  glancing  eyes. 
On  his  head  he  wore  a  tall  red  cap,  and  when  the 
princess  came  near  he  pulled  it  down  over  his  fore- 
head, and  bowing  low,  said— 

"  Fair  Princess,  your  servant  is  come  to  beg  the 
honour  which  you  have  promised  to  grant  him  who 
can  bear  to  look  undazzled  on  your  Highness's  beauty." 

Luisante  laughed  scornfully,  and  said — 

"  A  blind  prince,  at  least,  shall  never  be  the  husband 
of  Luisante." 

Aquila  bowed  low  again,  and  saying,  "  Next  morn- 
ing, your  servant  begs  permission  again  to  approach 
the  fair  Luisante,"  he  left  the  palace. 

''  I  wonder  who  this  prince  can  be  } "  said  Luisante, 
with  some  curiosity. 

"He  has  not  learned  much  from  his  visit,"  replied 
her  maid. 


24  FIVE  DA  YS'  ENTERTAINMENTS 

But  it  was  in  truth  a  magical  cap  that  Aquila  wore, 
transparent  as  day  to  him,  though  even  Luisante's 
eyes  could  not  pierce  it.  And  he  saw  through  it  that 
the  Princess  was  even  more  beautiful  and  more  proud 
than  report  had  spoken  of  her.  "  But  what  a  thing  is 
pride,"  he  said  to  himself,  as  he  turned  away ;  "  how 
does  it  distort  the  face,  and  mar  the  gentleness  of  a 
woman  !  Could  Luisante  but  see  herself  in  her  vanity, 
almost,  methinks,  would  she  pray  for  the  gift  of 
blindness." 

I  must  now  explain  Avho  this  pretended  prince  really 
was.  He  was  a  very  brave  soldier  of  the  King's  body- 
guard, and  as  prudent  and  wise  as  he  was  courageous. 
And  so,  though  so  many  had  failed,  he  determined  to 
try  his  fortune  with  Luisante.  "  Why  may  not  I 
m.arry  a  princess,  and  be  a  king  myself  some  day,"  he 
said,  "  like  King  Darius  or  the  Emperor  Agathamoira } 
If  I  fail,  why  'tis  only  loss  of  sight,  and  who  knows 
whether  next  time  I  go  to  battle  I  may  not  be  struck 
in  the  eye  by  an  arrow  }  Better  blind  for  a  princess, 
than  blind  for  a  shot." 

With  these  thoughts,  he  first  went  to  consult  the 
King.  The  King,  who  knew  Aquila's  courage  and 
worth,  was  rejoiced  at  the  thought  of  having  so  brave 
a  son-in-law,  and  only  feared  lest  in  the  attempt  he 
might  lose  an  excellent  soldier  ;  but  he  told  him  to  go 
and  prosper,  and  if  he  succeeded,  he  should  find  his 
courage  well  and  worthily  rewarded. 


THE  PRINCESS  L  UISA  NTE  2  5 

But  how  should  Aquila  guard  himself  against  the 
lightning  of  Luisante's  eyes  ?  He  thought  and 
thought,  but  no  plan  could  he  fix  on.  At  last  he 
remembered  an  old  fairy,  whom  the  common  people 
called  Fada,  and  w^ho  lived  on  the  edge  of  the  great 
forest  of  Hyrcania.  Late  at  night,  Aquila  stole  to 
the  mouth  of  her  cave.  It  was  very  dark  and  gloomy  ; 
the  wind  whistled  through  the  branches  of  the  great 
trees,  and  Aquila's  heart  nearly  failed  him.  But  he 
thought  again  of  Luisante,  and  going  boldly  on,  he 
thrice  called  out — 

"Fada!  Fada!  Fada!" 

A  voice  asked  him  who  he  was,  and  what  he 
needed. 

"  I  am  Aquila,"  he  said,  "  and  I  am  here  to  ask  aid 
from  Fada,  how  I  may  gain  the  hand  of  the  Princess 
Luisante." 

Immediately  the  fairy  appeared,  bending  with  age, 
her  face  carved  into  a  thousand  wrinkles,  and  her 
head  covered  with  a  tall  red  cap. 

"  Luck  helps  the  brave,"  she  cried  ;  and  taking  the 
cap  from  her  head,  she  told  him  to  pull  it  over  his 
eyes.  He  did  so,  and  to  his  surprize  he  saw  every- 
thing through  it  more  clearly  than  before.  "  The 
first  day,"  she  said,  ''go  with  this  cap  on  before 
Luisante,  and  judge  for  yourself  whether  she  be 
beautiful  or  not." 

"  I  have  watched  over  the  Princess,"  she  continued, 


26  FIVE  DA  YS'  ENTERTAINMENTS 


"  from  her  youth.  She  is  proud  ;  but  her  pride  arises 
from  a  foolish  vanity  in  her  own  beauty,  which  she 
has  been  brought  up  to  take  pleasure  in.  How 
should  such  a  princess  know  the  truth,  when  every 
one  about  her  tries  to  please  her  by  flattering  her } 
But  if  she  were  cured  of  this  pride,  Luisante  would 
be  a  princess  deserving  the  hand  of  a  soldier." 

"  There  is  nothing,"  Fada  added,  "  which  makes 
any  one  more  frightful  than  vanity.  Pride  spoils  the 
most  lovely  face.  I  am  an  old  woman,  and  some 
unkind  neighbours  say  that  I  am  ugly  ;  but  I  assure 
you  I  never  was  vain.  If  a  vain  person  could  but 
truly  see  herself,  she  would  feel  shame  and  grief  at 
the  sight ;  but  you  see  there  is  nothing  worth  looking 
at  in  an  old  woman  like  me." 

As  Aquila  said  nothing,  Fada  went  into  the  cave, 
and  presently  brought  from  it  a  mask,  so  made  as 
to  fit  closely  to  the  face.  Aquila  took  the  mask,  and 
saw  that  two  small  crystal  mirrors  were  fixed  in  it,  in 
place  of  the  eyes  ;  but  that,  still,  light  enough  passed 
through  to  enable  any  one  who  wore  it  to  direct  his 
steps.  "  Put  this  mask  on,"  said  Fada,  "  when  you 
appear  the  second  time  before  Luisante.  Do  not 
fear  her  eyes,"  she  said ;  "  it  is  in  her  own  power,  if 
she  chooses,  to  take  away  the  magical  power  from 
them  by  repeating  a  charm  which  I  taught  her  in  her 
childhood,  and  at  that  moment  those  whom  she  has 
rendered  blind  will  recover  their  eyesight.     But  she 


THE  PRINCESS  L  UISANTE  2  7 


will  not  do  this,  unless  she  repents  of  her  pride  ;  and 
if  she  does  not  repent,  why  you  will  find  some  nice 
girl  who  will  be  happy  to  marry  so  handsome  a  young 
soldier  as  you." 

Aquila  thanked  Fada.  "  One  thing  more,  however," 
she  said  :  "  if  you  present  yourself  in  your  own  name, 
the  Princess  will  not  even  come  forth  to  meet  you  ; 
and  so  I  counsel  you  to  dress  yourself  as  a  prince. 
Young  ladies  always  like  a  prince." 

**  Who  knows,"  replied  he,  "  what  may  happen } 
The  King  has  given  his  royal  word  that  he  will  favour 
and  reward  me.  And  if  I  am  to  marry  a  princess,  I 
must  at  least  be  a  prince." 

"Adieu,  Prince  Aquila,"  said  Fada,  retiring  to  her 
cave  ;  "  and  so,  go — go — go,  and  good  fortune  go  with 
you." 

Next  day,  as  I  have  already  mentioned,  Aquila 
presented  himself  at  the  palace,  and  satisfied  himself, 
by  the  aid  of  the  magical  cap,  of  the  beauty  which 
even  the  vanity  of  Luisante  could  not  entirely  hide 
or  do  away  with. 

I  now  return  to  the  course  of  the  story.  The  morn- 
ing after,  having  first  carefully  covered  his  face  with 
the  mask,  he  appeared  at  the  gate.  Luisante,  aston- 
ished and  enraged  at  his  courage  in  daring  twice  to 
visit  her,  came  out  attended  by  her  father  and  the 
court  to  meet  him.  Her  face  glowed  with  ten  times 
her  ordinary  pride,  and  at  the  sight  of  the  prince, 


28  FIVE  DA  YS'  ENTERTAINMENTS 

whose  face  was  hidden  in  the  strange  mask,  she 
smiled  with  a  frightful  scorn,  and  darted  at  him  a 
look  as  withering  as  the  lightning. 

But,  to  her  great  surprize,  Aquila  stood  unmoved. 
Not  able  to  guess  why  the  charm  had  failed,  Luisante 
again  firmly  fixed  her  eyes  on  him.  And  now,  catch- 
ing sight  of  the  crystal  mirrors  fixed  in  front  of  the 
magical  cap,  she  stood  motionless  in  her  own  turn ; 
for  in  them  she  could  not  but  see  her  own  face, 
swollen  with  vanity,  and  darkened  with  pride,  reflected 
back  with  terrible  truth  and  power.  It  was  herself  in 
truth — her  own  mind,  shining  out  through  her  face, 
that  she  saw — but  not  such  as  her  flatterers  had  pic- 
tured to  her.  And  so  it  was,  that  as  the  old  fairy 
had  said,  a  better  spirit  came  over  her ;  she  cast  her 
vain  heart  from  her,  and  wished  to  be  once  more  like 
a  little  child — modest,  and  humble,  and  loving.  To 
the  surprize  of  all  who  stood  by,  she  sank  down  on 
one  knee,  and  covering  her  face  with  her  hands  cried 
out — 

"  Pride,  away  !  pride,  away  !  pride,  away  !  " 

Aquila  read  well  what  was  passing  in  her  heart, 
and  saw  that  the  moment  was  come.  He  tore  off  the 
mask,  and  throwing  himself  at  her  feet,  said — 

*'  Fair  Princess,  fairest  Luisante,  see  me,  what  I 
really  am — no  prince,  but  a  poor  soldier,  who  yet 
dares  to  gaze  on  you." 

She  lifted  up  her  eyes,  and  looked  steadily  on  him  ; 


THE  PRINCESS  LUISANTE  29 

but  although  I  bcHcvc  she  smiled  a  little,  yet  it  was 
a  pleasant,  humble  kind  of  smile. 

"  I  repent,"  she  said.  **  Pride  leads  to  a  fall,  but 
beauty  is  only  with  the  humble  ;"  and  so  saying,  with 
the  utmost  gentleness,  she  offered  him  her  hand, 
which  he  reverently  clasped  in  his  own. 

"Ah,  unworthy!"  he  cried,  "most  unworthy  of  an 
honour  so  great ;  yet  worthy,  if  so  you  think  it." 

The  King,  who  had  looked  on  all  that  passed  with 
extraordinary  pleasure,  now  stepping  forward,  placed 
his  sword  on  Aquila's  shoulder,  and  saying,  "  Rise 
up.  Prince  Aquila,"  again  joined  his  hand  in  that  of 
the  Princess. 

"  I  am  yours,"  said  Luisante,  as  she  rose  up,  gently 
but  firmly.  "  I  am  yours — prince  or  no  prince ;  you 
have  conquered  in  one  battle  more.  And  henceforth 
I  disarm  my  eyes  of  their  magic  power,  for  I  am 
yours.  My  word  has  been  given  that  it  should  be 
so ;  and  I  am  " — she  added  with  a  smile — "  too  proud 
to  take  it  back  again." 

Mrs.  Wentworth  smiled  also  at  the  conclusion  of 
Emily's  tale,  and,  turning  to  Arthur,  said — 

**  It  is  indeed  a  very  pretty  story ;  it  might  have 
been  called  the  New  Narcissus — might  it  not  V 

"■  No,  mamma,"  cried  Lucy,  "  for  in  my  Catechism 
of  Mythology  it  is  said  that  Narcissus  pined  away 
and  turned  into  a  flower  (there  is  a  long  word  there, 


30  FIVE  DA  YS'  ENTERTAINMENTS 

but  I  can't  recollect  it)  from  looking  at  his  own  reflec- 
tion in  the  water  ;  but  you  know  the  Princess  was 
cured  by  seeing  herself  in  the  glass." 

"  I  wish  I  had  anything  so  pretty  to  tell,"  sighed 
Charles ;  "  but  I  know  next  to  nothing  about  fairies. 
I  never  even  saw  one." 

"  Never  mind,  my  dear  boy,"  said  Mrs.  Wentworth  ; 
"  remember,  luck  helps  the  brave." 


CHARLES'  FIRST  TALE 
adela's  dream 

Adela  was  in  general  a  very  good  little  girl.  She 
had  been  early  taught  to  be  so  by  her  mother,  who 
saw  in  her  little  daughter  the  high  and  happy  spirits 
of  her  own  youth  brought  again  before  her  eyes.  If 
Adela  did  wrong,  it  was  her  want  of  thought  rather 
than  her  want  of  obedience  which  was  to  blame ;  and 
when  a  fault  had  been  once  clearly  pointed  out  to 
her,  she  generally  did  not  do  it  again,  at  least  for 
several  days.  Yet  there  was  one  bad  habit  which 
her  mother  found  it  difficult  to  cure,  and  that  was,  a 
certain  carelessness  with  regard  to  the  feelings  of 
animals,  which  sometimes  led  her  into  real,  though 
unintentional,  cruelty. 

One  fine  summer's   morning,  Adela  went  out   as 


ADELA  'S  DREAM  3 1 


usual  to  i)la}'  in  the  garden.  She  ran  from  flower 
to  flower,  carefully — almost  respectfully — looking  at 
and  smelling  them,  till  from  one  of  the  tall  lily-cups 
there  flew  out  a  beautiful  coloured  butterfly.  Adela 
stretched  out  her  hands  to  catch  it.  Something  in 
her  heart  whispered  to  her,  "  Let  it  alone ;  it  has  done 
you  no  harm ;  you  can  only  harm  it."  If  she  had 
been  wise  she  would  have  turned  away  ;  but  still  she 
looked  and  looked  on,  till  the  longing  became  too 
strong  for  her  to  resist ;  and  she  took  hold  of  the  tiny 
insect.  Its  little  feathers  pow^dered  her  fingers  with 
fine,  ruby  dust  :  she  thought  she  would  gather  it 
together  and  carry  it  into  the  house  for  her  doll's 
dinner.  Meanwhile  the  butterfly  struggled  as  it  could 
for  liberty,  and  at  last  succeeded  in  getting  ofi*.  Adela 
ran  hastily  after  it,  and,  I  am  sorry  to  say,  was  cruel 
enough  to  knock  the  little  thing  to  the  ground  with 
her  handkerchief,  giving  it  a  blow  which  took  away  its 
life ;  and  then,  without  feeling  sorry  for  what  she  had 
done,  she  proceeded  to  carry  it  home  in  triumph. 

At  the  house-door  she  met  her  mother  standing-. 
"  What  have  you  there,  dear  child  .?"  said  she.  Adela 
was  too  truthful  to  attempt  to  hide  what  she  had 
done ;  and  she  held  up  the  dead  butterfly  to  her 
mother  without  venturing  to  speak  a  word.  "  Cruel 
child,"  said  she,  much  grieved  at  her  little  daughter's 
thoughtlessness.  '*  Do  you  not  know  its  life  was  as 
dear  to  it  as  your  own  is  to  you  ?     Go  to  your  room, 


3  2  FIVE  DA  YS'  ENTERTAINMENTS 

Adela — I  have  spoken  to  you  several  times  of  this 
before — and  do  not  come  out  of  it  till  the  afternoon. 
I  hope  in  the  meanwhile  you  will  learr.  ::  feel  very 
sorr\'  for  what  you  have  done," 

"Indeed  I  am  very  sorry — \er\- — .^^v^iy,"  said 
poor  Adela,  bursting  into  tears,  and  then  at  once 
hastening  off  in  obedience  to  her  mother^s  orders.  It 
was  a  hot  summer's  day,  and  Adela  laid  the  i:.-i 
insect  carefully  on  the  window-seat,  in  hopes  t:.:.:  :..- 
Sim's  rays  might  warm  it  back  to  life.  Then,  sitting 
down  on  the  edge  of  her  little  bed,  she  thought  over 
her  own  cruelty  and  her  mamma's  words.  And  pre- 
sently (for  she  was  wearied  with  tears). she  leaned  her 
head  back,  without  knowing  it,  on  the  pillow,  her 
eyelids  closed,  and  a  strange  dream  came  into  her 
mind  as  she  lay  softly  sleeping. 

She  thought  she  was  sitting  on  the  lawn  in  the 
garden  where  she  had  just  been  p-a\  i::^.  From 
amongst  the  tall  lilies  a  beautiful  f  r:::  ^:e:  :  :'  r::: 
all  dressed  in  the  fairest  ruby  and  azure  :i:.:s  :.5  i:  '.  j 
had  been  dipped  in  the  rainbo.v.  Fear  r::.  iaii 
she  to  Adela,  who  tried  to  c5:.\-  :  at  found  herself 
as  it  were  chained  to  the  - :  :  ;  I  ani  the  fair}-  Far- 
faletta,   and  I    am    come   :;     caaa^e    vou  fro:::  year 


present  shape,  in  orc^r  :::a:  } 
what  those  brute  creatures  are 
kind  hve,  and  may  know  :•  a: 
treated  with  love  and  revercr.ce, 


aay  learn 


A  DEL  A 'S  DREAM  3  3 

"  But  shall  I  ever  be  a  little  girl  again?"  said  Adela, 
timidly. 

**  When  you  have  passed  the  appointed  season ; 
meantime,  pay  good  heed  to  what  you  see,  that  you 
forget  it  not,"  answered  the  fairy,  touching  Adela 
gently  with  her  wand. 

Immediately  Adela  felt  a  curious  change  come  over 
her;  a  heat  and  a  tingling  ran  through  her  shoulders, 
and  presently  well-feathered  wings  sprang  out  from 
them.  Her  bright  young  eyes,  though  altered  in  shape 
and  size,  yet  remained  to  her ;  and  with  them  she  could 
perceive  that  the  lilies  on  the  lawn  had  grown  to  the 
size  and  stature  of  tall  forest  trees.  An  irresistible 
upward  desire  seized  her ;  she  seemed  to  walk  the  air ; 
and  as  she  hovered  over  the  flowers  with  the  beau- 
tiful ivory  bill  with  which  she  was  nov/  provided,  she 
could  draw  the  honey  from  their  cups.  But  she  still 
(such  was  her  dream)  kept  as  before  her  human  mind 
and  feelings ;  and  she  knew  that  she  had  become  one 
of  an  innumerable  colony  of  larks  whose  nests  were 
scattered  over  the  nearest  corn-fields.  She  flew  from 
flower  to  flower:  now  tasting  the  sweets  they  con- 
tained, now  relieving  them  from  the  little  beetles  and 
other  insects  which  seemed  to  her  to  fret  and  spoil 
their  beauty.  Adela  could  snap  these  little  things 
up  with  her  bill  quite  easily.  She  found  them  much 
better  eating  than  she  had  expected. 

But  presently  a  new  feeling   came  over  her.     She 
D 


34  FIVE  DA  YS'  ENTERTAINMENTS 

flapped  her  wings,  and  in  a  moment  rising  into  the  air, 
she  found  herself  at  a  vast  height  above  the  ground. 
People  go  up  as  high  as  she  went  in  balloons,  bxit 
they  cannot  see  very  much  of  the  landscape  over 
which  they  float.  Yet,  though  almost  among  the 
clouds,  to  Adela's  surprize,  she  could  now  distinctly 
make  out,  not  only  the  general  shape  and  appearance 
of  the  earth  beneath  her,  but  even  the  smallest  in- 
sects that  ran  over  its  surface.  For  of  all  living 
creatures,  birds  are  said  to  have  the  keenest  sight. 
She  darted  down  on  a  worm  which  •\^'as  creeping 
beneath,  and  carried  it  off  in  triumph  to  a  nest, 
woven  together  of  roots,  and  grass,  and  twigs,  which 
lay  near,  hidden  at  the  bottom  of  the  tall  wheat- 
straws. 

"  Welcome,  sweet  little  wife,"  cried  a  lark  who 
seemed  to  be  watching  by  it,  in  a  language  which 
she  could  now  understand,  as  though  it  had  been 
hers  from  childhood.  *'  How  long  the  time  has  been  ! 
Now  come  and  do  a  mother's  part  !  I  have  been 
sitting  on  the  eggs  till  I  am  quite  cold  ;  and  then  I 
am  so  much  afraid  of  breaking  them  !"  And  with 
these  words  her  mate,  rising,  displayed  five  tiny,  tiny 
eggs — on  which  she  took  her  place  without  a  moment's 
hesitation. 

"  You  have  been  long  away  from  our  nest,"  said 
he.  **  I  feared  lest  some  evil  might  have  befallen  my 
little  one  ;  I  did  not  know  what  to  think." 


7 

A  DELAYS  DREAM  35 

Adela  tried  to  explain  that  she  had  never  seen  the 
bird  before,  and  who  and  what  she  really  was.  But 
she  soon  found  that  she  was  unable  to  make  him 
understand  the  change  which  she  had  undergone. 
He  would  not  believe  that  she  had  not  been  his 
companion  since  St.  Valentine's,  and  she  presently 
submitted  herself  with  perfect  patience  to  what  she 
saw  must  be  a  law  and  rule  of  what  had  happened 
to  her. 

*'  If  you  have  picked  up  breakfast,"  said  he,  "  I 
will  leave  you  a  while,  and  try  to  find  something 
nice  for  myself.  When  the  sky  falls,  we  shall  catch 
beetles,  you  know,  as  the  proverb  says  ;  meantime, 
we  must  seek  them  for  ourselves." 

And  with  these  w^ords  he  spread  his  wings,  and  flew 
off.  The  young  mother  sat  at  her  post,  and  kept  the 
eggs  warm  with  the  utmost  care,  till  sounds,  high 
above  her,  caused  her  to  turn  her  quick  head  upwards. 
There,  in  the  bright  blue  sky,  though  our  eyes  could 
not,  yet  she  could  see  her  mate,  hung  above  her  on 
his  wings,  shaking  from  his  throat  a  perfect  shower  of 
song:  dancing  and  throwing  himself  over  with  joy  in 
the  solitude  of  the  glorious  light  of  heaven  :  look- 
ing down  with  his  clear  eyes  on  his  home  beneath, 
and  singing  as  he  looked  ;  till  silent  at  last,  as  if 
satisfied  with  the  closing  sweetness. 

Adela  looked  up  at  the  lark,  and  admired  him. 
"  We  too,  the  birds,"    she  thought,  "  love   with   the 

D  2 


30  FIVE  DA  YS'  ENTERTAINMENTS 

love  which  mankind  too  boldly  claim  as  their  own. 
They  have  houses,  and  we  have  nests ;  they  have 
babies,  and  we  have  nestlings  ;  they  have  railways, 
and  we  have  wings  ;  the  difference  is  not  so  great 
as  some  people  fancy."  And  then  as  she  slept  she 
murmured  to  herself  some  beautiful  words  of  a  great 
poet : 

Hail  to  thee,  blithe  Spirit  ! 

Bird  thou  never  wert, 
That  from  heaven,  or  near  it, 
Pourest  thy  full  heart 
In  profuse  strains  of  unpremeditated  art. 

Higher  stili  and  higher 

From  the  earth  thou  springest  : 
Like  a  cloud  of  fire 

The  blue  deep  thou  wingest, 
And  singing  still  dost  soar,  and  soaring  ever  singest. 

What  thou  art  we  know  not : 

What  is  most  like  thee  ? 
From  rainbow  clouds  there  flow  not 

Drops  so  bright  to  see 
As  from  thy  presence  showers  a  rain  of  melody. 

Like  a  poet  hidden 

In  the  light  of  thought. 
Singing  hymns  unbidden, 
Till  the  world  is  wrought 
To  sympathy  with  hopes  and  fears  it  heeded  not : 

Like  a  high-born  maiden 

In  a  palace  tower, 
Soothing  her  love-laden 

Soul  in  secret  hour 
With  music  sweet  as  love,  which  overflows  her  bower. 


ADELA'S  DREAM  37 

For  a  moment  the  sound  of  hef  own  voice  roused 
Adela.  She  woke  :  and  looking  round,  saw  the  bright 
sun  streaming  in  through  the  roses  that  overhung 
the  window — through  the  golden  green  leaves  of  the 
vine,  and  through  the  chequered  wicker-work  of  the 
cage  in  which  her  doves  sat  murmuring.  It  was 
mid-day  in  the  world,  and  she  was  a  little  girl.  .  .  . 
And  then  again  sleep  rolled  over  her  soul,  and  the 
dream  held  its  course  as  before. 

And,  as  she  gazed  upwards,  the  bird,  her  mate, 
that  floated  above  her,  changing  his  sweet  song  into  a 
sharp  note,  as  of  warning,  dropped  suddenly  through 
the  air  towards  the  nest.  But  before  he  could  feach 
it,  Adela  felt  something  like  a  cloud  overshadow  her, 
and  in  a  moment  found  herself  a  fast  prisoner  in  the 
nets  of  a  birdcatcher.  Her  mate,  with  one  piercing 
cry,  mounted  into  the  air,  and  was  soon  lost  even  to 
her  eyesight,  though  she  heard — or  thought  she  heard 
— his  last  parting  words  borne  down  towards  her  from 
the  immeasurable  distance. 

"  Farewell,  dearest :  it  is  the  end  !  I  know  it. 
Never  again  shall  I  hear  thy  sweet  song.  Never 
again  shall  we  share  the  pleasant  labours  of  the  nest. 
Thou  art  fallen  into  the  hands  of  man,  the  tyrant,  the 
oppressor ;  he  will  keep  thee  as  his  slave  and  his  toy  ; 
for  cunning  is  in  his  hand,  and  cruelty  in  his  heart. 
But  why — ah,  why  should  it  be  so  .?" 

And  then  the  dream  changed  ;   and  Adela  found 


3^  FIVE  DA  YS'  ENTERTAINMENTS 

herself  a  prisoner  within  a  wicker  cage,  that  was  hung 
from  the  window  of  the  very  nursery  in  which  she 
had  been  herself  brought  up.  Children  were  playing 
there ;  and  from  time  to  time  they  ran  up  to  the 
cage,  to  give  their  bird  lumps  of  sugar,  and  fresh 
grass  to  rest  or  to  feed  on.  They  called  each  other 
by  little  nursery  names,  which  seemed  familiar  to 
her  ears ;  and  amongst  them  she  could  recognize 
her  own.  "  Dela  !  Dela  !  "  cried  one ;  "  you  must 
not  go  to  the  cage  :  mamma  says  no.  She  says  you 
will  torment  and  hurt  our  pretty  lark.  She  cannot 
trust  you  near  it."  Eagerly  she  looked  at  the  child 
thus  spoken  to ;  but  a  mist  seemed  drawn  before  its 
little  face,  so  that  she  could  not  see  it.  "  They  are 
not  so  cruel,  after  all,"  thought  she.  "  My  mate  was 
mistaken  ;  "  and  then  she  hopped  from  perch  to  perch, 
and  sang  her  brightest  little  song  in  sign  of  thank- 
fulness and  love  to  her  new  owners.  It  did  not  seem 
so  bad  to  be  in  a  cage,  after  all. 

But  presently  all  the  children  but  two  were  called 
from  the  room.  One  of  these  came  up  at  once  to  the 
cage,  opened  the  little  door,  and  caught  hold  of  the 
lark,  who  fluttered  and  beat  its  wings  in  an  agony 
of  fear. 

"  Oh  Adela  !  Adela  !  "  screamed  the  other,  ''  what 
are  you  doing  }  " 

"  Look  here.  Car,"  cried  she,  "  I  have  caught  the 
lark  :  see  how  pretty  she  is." 


ADELA  'S  DREAAf  39 


"  You  will  kill  her — you  will  kill  her,"  answered 
Caroline,  running-  up :  "  see  how  her  eye  glances, 
and  her  wings  tremble  !  You  will  kill  her  with 
fright."  And  in  truth  the  child,  though  without 
meaning  it,  handled  her  prisoner  very  roughly  :  for 
little  hands  are  not  always  gentle  hands.  "  Do  put 
her  back  into  the  cage,  dear  Adela,  do  ! " — but  Adela 
would  not.  And  then  Caroline  tried  to  snatch  the 
bird  from  her  sister.  It  was  kindly  meant,  but  in  the 
struggle  the  poor  lark  was  hardly  used — her  feathers 
ruffled,  and  one  of  her  wings  nearly  broken. 

When  the  children  saw  w^hat  they  had  done  they 
burst  into  tears,  and  quickly  laying  down  the  bird  on 
the  soft  grass  at  the  bottom  of  the  cage,  they  w^ent  up 
to  the  window  and  looked  out  sadly  into  the  garden. 
The  warm  sun  shone  upon  the  lark ;  and  presently 
recovering  herself,  though  with  pain  and  difficulty, 
she  raised  up  her  head  and  looked  for  the  children 
in  fear.  But  suddenly  her  quick  sight— so  much 
keener  than  our  own — showed  her  in  the  distance  a 
danger  of  which  the  children  were  not  aware.  It  was 
a  hawk,  who,  drawn  onwards  by  the  sun  glittering 
upon  the  glass,  was  making  his  way  rapidly  towards 
the  w^indow.  '*  Poor  little  things,"  thought  the  lark, 
forgetting  the  ill-usage  she  had  received,  "  it  is  flying 
at  them  :  it  sees  their  bright  eyes,  no  doubt,  and  it 
will  pluck  them  out  and  kill  them  ; "  and  with  that  she 
flew  from  side  to  side  of  the  cage,  uttering  her  most 


40  FIVE  DAYS'  ENTERTAINMENTS 


piercing  notes,  in  order  to  awaken  them  to  a  know- 
ledge of  their  danger.  What  would  she  not  have 
given  for  a  human  voice,  to  speak  to  them  and  give 
them  warning  !  She  tried  so  hard  that  it  seemed 
nearly  coming.     But  this  could  not  be. 

"What  ails  the  poor  bird.?"  said  Caroline,  turning 
to  the  cage  ;  while  her  sister  remained  unmoved, 
looking  sullenly  forth,  and  resting  her  hands  on  the 
arms  of  a  little  wheelbarrow  which  her  mother  had 
given  her  to  carry  plants  and  stones  with  in  the 
garden.  And  now  every  moment  the  hawk,  wheeling 
round  and  round  in  great  circles,  drew  near ;  till  at 
last,  making  a  sudden  dart,  it  flew  straight  forward 
with  a  loud  whirr  at  the  child's  face.  She  started 
back,  and  with  a  scream  instinctively  raised  the 
wheelbarrow  before  her;  the  hawk  rushed  violently 
against  it,  and  in  the  fury  of  his  flight  actually  drove 
his  beak  deep  and  firm  within  the  wood.  There 
came  a  little  round  lump  on  the  other  side  of  it,  so 
violently  had  it  been  struck  by  the  hawk's  horny 
beak. 

And  so  the  child  was  saved — she  scarce  knew 
how.  The  lark  shook  her  wings  with  joy,  and 
poured  out  a  song  of  thankfulness  at  the  wonderful 
escape. 

"  Dear  little  bird,"  cried  they,  coming  to  the  cage, 
"  she  meant  to  warn  us ;  she  saw  the  hawk,  no  doubt : 
what  shall  we  do  to  please  her  .?'* 


ADELA  'S  DREAM  4 1 


**  I  will  fetch  her  another  kinip  of  sugar,"  said 
Adela. 

"  No,  I  know  what  will  be  kindest,"  answered 
Caroline. 

"  What  is  that  ?  " 

"  I  will  let  her  go.  I  am  sure  she  had  rather  not 
be  kept  locked  up  in  this  cage,  but  fly  abroad  with 
the  other  birds  at  liberty." 

"Oh  no— no,"  cried  her  sister,  "indeed — indeed  I 
cannot  let  her  go  :  I  am  sure  she  will  not  know  what 
to  do  with  herself!  I  am  sure  it  is  much  best  for 
her  to  be  our  little  prisoner  !  I  will  be  so  kind  to 
her." 

"  I  am  sure  mamma  would  wish  us  to  let  the  bird 
go,"  answered  Caroline,  thoughtfully.  "  You  know 
she  was  not  pleased  when  Henry  brought  it  us." 

"Well — mamma  always  says  Avhat  is  right,"  said 
her  sister  ;  and  then,  as  if  a  bright  thought  struck 
her, — "  we  will  spread  crumbs  on  the  window-sill,  and 
the  lark  will  come  back  every  day  and  eat  them,  and 
so  she  will  still  be  our  little  sister." 

"  Good-bye,  sister,"  said  Caroline,  letting  the  bird 
fly. 

With  an  immense  long  note  of  pleasure  the  lark 
sprang  through  the  window,  mounted  high  in  the  air, 
and  presently,  perceiving  her  nest,  dropped  down 
upon  it.  Her  mate,  who  was  sitting  disconsolate, 
flapped  his  wings  and  rose  to  meet  her. 


42  FIVE  DA  YS'  ENTERTAINMENTS 


"I  never  thought  to  see  my  love,"  said  he;  ''how 
has  she  escaped  from  man,  the  tyrant  ? " 

"  They  are  not  all  such  as  you  think  them," 
answered  Adela,  telling  her  adventure.  "  They  are 
not  all  such  as  you  think  them.  Not  knowing  what 
we  really  are,  if  they  ill-treat  us  it  is  mostly  from 
ignorance :  if  they  are  cruel,  it  is  from  thought- 
lessness." 

And  on  this  Adela  awoke  with  a  sudden  start,  and 
knew  that  it  was  a  dream,  and  yet  not  all  a  dream. 

"I  have  never  such  dreams  as  that,"  said  Lucy 
Wentworth. 

"Why,  how  can  we  tell  what  w^e  dream  of  when 
we  are  asleep,"  answered  Arthur,  "unless  we  slept 
with  our  eyes  open  1 " 

"  I  never  thought  of  that,"  said  she ;  "  and  yet, 
you  must  be  laughing"  at  me,  Arthur,  for  you  know 
we  do  dream  sometimes." 

"  No  doubt,  Lucy — and  sometimes,  as  I  said,  with 
our  eyes  open.  But  we  may,  in  truth,  have  many 
dreams  which  we  cannot  remember,  and  I  should 
think  that  very  probably  it  is  so.  For,  in  fact,  we 
only  say  that  we  dream,  when  we  recollect  our 
dreaming." 

"  Is  what  you  said  of  the  quickness  of  the  sense 
of  vision  in  birds  really  true,  Charles } "  asked  Mrs. 
Wentworth. 


ir 


ARAIUAX  TALK  43 


"  I  believe  so.  No  bird  whatever  is  said  to  be 
without  eyes  ;  whilst  among  animals  there  are  the 
mole,  and  one  or  two  beside." 

"  Why  is  the  poor  mole  blind  .-*"  said  Lucy. 

"  That's  more  than  I  can  see,"  answered  Charles. 

Mrs.  Wentworth  here  observing  that  Eleanor,  the 
next  speaker,  was  not  quite  ready  for  her  task,  said 
there  was  a  little  Arabian  tale  on  the  subject,  which 
she  would  repeat  meanwhile. 

*'  Pray  do,"  said  Eleanor,  looking  much  relieved, 
*'  and  make  it  as  long  as  possible." 

"Take  it  as  it  stands,"  replied  the  lady,  "and  be 
content. 

''Adam  and  Eve  had  been  cast  forth  from  Paradise, 
and  lived  by  the  labour  of  their  hands  on  the  plain 
of  Shinar.  Chancing  to  burrow  his  way  one  evening 
beneath  their  cottage,  the  mole  looked  up  and 
watched  them  as  they  rested  from  labour.  And 
then  wickedness  arose  in  the  heart  of  the  mole,  and 
hastening  to  the  Throne  of  God,  he  cast  himself  at 
its  foot,  and  said— 

"  *  Let  the  creature  Thou  hast  made  tell  Thee  of 
what  he  has  seen  on  earth. 

"  '  I  was  in  Adam's  cottage,  and  there  I  saw  the 
man  whom  Thou  hast  made,  with  Eve,  the  woman, 
that  they  knelt  down  and  prayed  to  an  image 
that  they  had   formed   and   set   before  them.     Now, 


44  FIVE  DA  YS'  ENTERTAINMENTS 

therefore,  let  them  be  punished  for  their  wicked- 
ness ;  for  they  have  turned  aside  from  Thee,  to 
worship  idols.' 

"  On  which  the  Voice  answered — 

"'Adam  also,  and  Eve,  are  ever  in  My  sight,  and  I 
saw  them  kneeling  before  the  cradle  of  their  firstborn 
child,  the  son  whom  I  have  given  them ;  and  their 
words  were  the  words  of  prayer  and  of  thanksgiving. 
Know,  therefore,  thy  pride  and  thy  presumption,  for 
God  seeth  the  ways  of  man,  his  righteousness  and  his 
sin,  and  concealeth  it ;  the  neighbour  seeth  it  not,  and 
proclaimeth  it  aloud.' 

"And  for  this  it  was,  say  they,  that  God  punished 
the  pride  of  the  mole,  and  set  it  to  work  evermore 
below  the  earth,  dark,  and  in  blindness. 

"Such  a  tale,"  Mrs.  Wentworth  added,  "is,  no 
doubt,  in  our  ears,  strange  and  foreign  in  its  language, 
but  it  will  not,  I  think,  appear  irreverent  or  idle  to 
those  who  know  Whose  eyes  are  on  them." 

Eleanor  was  ready  by  this  time  ;  she  took  her  place, 
and  without  further  delay,  in  a  low,  gentle  voice,  she 
began  her  story. 


BLIND  MARGARET  45 


ELEANOR'S   FIRST  TALE 


BLIND   MARGARET 


The  story  that  I  am  to  tell,  such  as  it  is,  is  one  that 
T  often  heard  from  an  old  woman  who  lived  close  to 
my  Papa's  parsonage.  She  used  to  repeat  it  to  me 
so  frequently,  that  I  almost  know  it  by  heart,  and  so 
you  must  let  me  try  to  give  it  you  in  her  own  words, 
for  she  was  a  very  fair-spoken  old  lady. 

*' I  can  see  now  very  well.  Miss  Eleanor,"  she  used 
to  say,  putting  up  her  spectacles,  "but  I  could  not 
see  so  once,  and  when  I  was  as  old  as  you  are,  I  did 
not  even  know  what  seeing  meant.  Indeed,  it  was  a 
long  time  before  I  knew  that  I  was  blind,  or  that 
there  was  any  difference  between  myself  and  others. 
I  knew  I  could  not  find  my  way  about  as  my  father 
and  mother  did ;  but  then  I  only  thought  'it  was 
because  they  were  older  and  better,  and  that  when 
I  grew  up,  I  should  be  as  they  were;  and  so  it  was, 
I  thank  God,  but  not  in  the  way  which  I  thought 
for." 

I  used  to  ask  old  Margaret,  (continued  Eleanor,) 
what  her  earliest  recollections  were,  out  of  a  childish 
curiosity  which  I  see  now  was  not  very  considerate ; 


4^  FIVE  DA  YS'  ENTERTAINMENTS 


but  she  always  answered  me  readily  and  cheerfully. 
"  I  remember  my  father  taking  mc  on  his  knees,"  she 
would  say,  "  and  drawing  my  little  hand  down  over 
his  face,  that  I  might  know  him  again,  as  he  said. 
And  so  for  a  long  time  I  had  all  sorts  of  strange 
thoughts,  Miss.  I  used  to  fancy  his  nose  was  the 
most  important  part — the  best  part  of  his  face, 
because  I  could  feel  it  best.  And  when  I  touched 
his  eyes  (but  this  was  after  I  knew  what  being  blind 
meant)  he  would  say,  *Ah,  poor  dear,  if  God  in  His 
mercy  would  give  her  back  hers.'  And  I  told  him 
that  I  felt  nothing  where  my  eyes  were,  and  that  if  I 
could  ever  see,  I  knew  it  would  be  through  the  tips  of 
my  fingers. 

'*  God,  indeed,  is  very  merciful  to  the  bhnd,  Miss," 
Margaret  used  to  say,  "and  has  given  them  senses 
where  others  have  not.  I  could  tell  any  one  again, 
who  had  been  once  in  the  cottage,  by  the  sound  of 
their  movement*,  even  before  they  spoke,  and  my 
fingers  used  to  be  almost  as  good  as  eyes  to  me.  It 
was  so  that  I  first  learnt  to  read.  I  have  heard  some- 
where of  a  little  girl,  who  was  learnt  to  read  by  being- 
shown  the  letters  on  her  mother's  grave-stone.  My 
dear  mother  was  alive,  but  there  were  many  tombs 
in  the  churchyard,  and  the  letters  cut  into  the  stone, 
you  know.  Miss,  were  of  such  use  to  me  that  she  would 
thank  God  for  having  provided  such  handy  books  for 
her  poor  blind  child  to  read  by.   She  guided  my  fingers 


# 


BLIND  MARGARET  47 


along  the  lines,  and  so  I  learnt  ni)-  letters,  one  by  one, 
as  (luickl}-,  I  do  believ^c,  as  if  I  had  seen  them  ;  and 
many  texts  of  Scripture  I  thus  read,  and  they  have 
stayed  engraven,  if  I  may  say  so,  on  my  mind  from 
that  day  forward. 

*'  But  I  am  telling  you  all  these  trifles.  Miss,"  she 
would  continue,  *'  and  I  must  go  on  to  the  rest  of  my 
poor  story,  such  as  it  is.  My  father  heard,  that  at  a 
town  many  miles  from  where  we  then  lived,  near  Sher- 
borne, there  was  a  very  famous  doctor,  who  had  cured 
many  blind  people,  and  that  he  was  so  kind  as  to 
operate,  as  they  called  it — to  operate — I  mind  the 
word  well — on  all  poor  persons,  without  asking  money, 
for  charity's  sake.  But  the  place  was  many  miles  off, 
and  I  was  too  young  to  walk  ;  and  my  mother,  too, 
she  said  she  must  go  and  see  what  they  would  do  to 
her  poor  blind  lamb, — so  she  used  to  call  me  then. 
Miss, — and  we  did  not  know  how  to  find  money 
wherewith  to  pay  our  journey. 

"  But  so  God  would  have  it,  as  I  was  sitting  alone 
in  our  cottage  one  day,  knitting  (for  I  had  been  taught 
to  do  that  betimes),  that  a  gentleman  came  in  and 
asked  if  I  could  shew  him  the  way  towards  Gloucester. 
Oh,  that  is  ivJicre  the  blind  Doctor  lives,  I  cried  out. 
The  gentleman  started,  and  then,  I  suppose,  he  saw 
that  I  was  blind  ;  and  he  asked  my  story,  and  pitied 
me,  and  put  some  money  carefully  into  my  hands, 
which  he  said  would  pay  to  take  us  all  there. 


4^  FIVE  DAYS'  ENTERTAINMENTS 


**  So  we  soon  set  out  for  Gloucester.  When  we  got 
there,  I  was  taken  into  the  doctor's  house,  and  as  I 
went  through  the  passage,  I  heard  a  child  screaming 
out  with  joy,  Oh,  it  is  so  nice  to  have  eyes — Tiice 
new  eyes !  and  I  laughed  and  felt  happier  than  I 
ever  had  before,  though  all  the  while  I  trembled  and 
shook  from  not  knowing  what  was  about  to  happen  to 
me.  Well,  at  last,  I  was  taken  to  the  room  where  the 
doctor  was.  He  came  up  to  me,  and  then  I  heard 
him  go  and  whisper  something  to  my  father,  but  I 
could  not  hear  what.  Oh,  how  I  wished  I  could  see, 
that  I  might  look  at  his  face,  and  find  whether  he 
seemed  comforted  or  not  by  what  he  heard !  But  I 
shall  tire  you,  Miss  Eleanor,"  said  Margaret. 

"Not  at  all,"  I  said,  "but  tell  me  how  you  felt 
when  the  operation  was  over,  and  you  first  began  to 
see." 

"  It  was  over  in  a  minute,  and  did  not  hurt  much, 
and  then  I  looked  for  my  mother  first,  and  you  will 
laugh.  Miss,  but  I  could  not  make  it  out  at  all.  She 
was  standing  by  the  window,  hardly  daring,  I  think, 
to  look  at  what  was  going  on,  and  I  thought  she  was 
growing  to  the  trees  that  I  saw  through  it  (I  knew 
they  must  be  trees,  though  I  could  hardly  tell  why). 
And  the  trees,  and  she,  and  the  room,  and  everything 
seemed  quite  close  together,  and  covered  with  all 
manner  of  colours.  My  father  and  mother  looked 
very  different — much    smaller — than   I    had   thought 


BLIND  MARGARET  49 


they  would  look.  They  looked  like  what  I  had 
fancied  children  woidd  be,  and  moved  about  so 
that  it  quite  distracted  me — indeed,  it  was  not  for 
some  time  that  I  really  knew  what  colour,  and  size, 
and  distance  meant.  This  took  me  over  by  surprize, 
I  may  say,  at  first ;  but  afterwards  I  understood, 
when  I  came  to  think  of  it,  that  we  have  to  learn  the 
use  of  our  eyes,  like  as  of  our  feet  and  our  fingers  : 
but  it  was  a  lesson,  I  thank  God,  that  I  was  not  long 
in  learning. 

"  But  oh,  Miss,"  said  Margaret,  "  there  was  one  such 
a  sad  sight — it  makes  my  tears  come  even  now  to 
think  on  it  !  After  the  first  time  I  had  been  there, 
the  good  doctor  told  me  to  come  back  to  his  house 
in  a  few  days,  that  he  might  see  whether  my  eyes 
needed  any  further  healing  or  no.  But,  thank  God, 
they  gained  their  strength  apace,  and  when  I  went 
again  to  see  him,  it  was  only  to  thank  him  for  his 
charity  and  kindness  to  a  poor  creature,  such  as  I  was. 
Miss  Eleanor.  But  as  I  came  up  to  the  door,  I 
bethought  me  that  I  heard  a  voice  withinside,  as  of 
some  one  weeping  and  wailing,  and  I  said  to  myself, 
it  was  a  child,  poor  thing,  crying  for  the  pain  which 
the  sharp  iron  lancets  gave  it.  But  when  I  tapped  at 
the  door,  and  was  come  in,  there  was  a  young  lady 
standing,  and  her  eyes  were  covered  with  a  green 
bandage,  and  by  her  stood  her  mother,  and  she  it  was 
whose  voice  I  had  heard  without. 


so  FIFE  DA  YS'  ENTERTAINMENTS 


"  *  Do  not  grieve  for  me,' "  she  said  (for  the  words 
have  been  often  by  me  since,  Miss,  when  I  have  been 
sick  or  ready  to  fret  myself),  'Do  not  grieve 
for  me,  mother,  dearest.  If  I  am  to  be  blind  for 
the  rest  of  my  days,  it  is  God's  will,  and  so  it  is 
very  good.  Do  we  not  say.  Thy  will  be  done  on 
eartJi,  as  it  is  in  Jicavcn,  dear  mother  .'' ' — and  then 
she  looked  up  at  the  lady  with  her  poor  blind 
face,  till  I  almost  wished,  Miss,  that  I  myself  had 
not  been  able  to  see  her — '  and  He  will  give  me 
light  within — enough  to  walk  in  His  ways,  I  trust,  till 
He  takes  me  Avhere  there  is  everlasting  light  with 
Him,  if  so  it  be  His  pleasure.' 

"  But  her  mother,  like  Rachel,  whom  we  read  of 
in  the  Holy  Scripture,  would  not  be  comforted.  She 
said  to  the  doctor,  that  he  was  a  cruel,  wicked  man, 
to  have  put  her  sweet  Louisa  to  such  pain,  and  for  no 
good  after  all  ;  but  he  bore  it  patiently.  Miss,  and 
said  only, — 

'  "*  Health,  like  sickness,  is  in  higher  hands,  ma'am. 
Man  proposes,  but  God  disposes.  Such  as  my  art 
and  skill  are,  trust  me,  madam,  I  have  done  all.  Be- 
lieve me,  none  can  feel  the  misery  of  such  failure  so 
deeply  as  one  who  attempts  a  cure,  and  finds  it 
beyond  him.*  But  maybe  I  do  not  speak  his 
words  rightly,  Miss,  for  he  was  a  learned  man,  and 
it  is  now  many  years  over." 

I  begged   Margaret  not  to  trouble  herself  on  this 


BUM)  MARGARET  5  I 

account,  but  to  tell  me,  if  she  were  not  weary,  all  that 
she  could  remember. 

"  I  have  little  more  to  say,  Miss  Eleanor,"  she 
answered.  "  Oh  yes — there  was  one  thing  more. 
For  the  young  lady,  who  stood  by  leaning  against  a 
chair,  as  quiet  as  any  lamb — and  you  would  have 
prayed  God,  Miss,  to  bless  her  gentle  face — the  young 
lady  stretched  forth  her  hand  to  the  doctor  (for  she 
knew  where  he  was  by  his  voice,  you  see),  and  when 
he  took  her  hand  in  his,  she  said,  *  Be  sure,  sir,  that 
I  thank  you  deeply  for  your  kindness,  and  I  know  that 
you  have  done  all  that  you  could  for  me.  And  indeed 
I  suffered  very  little — nothing  almost — except  perhaps 
just  then  when  I  saw  the  light  for  a  moment,'  she  said, 
and  she  stopped  for  a  twinkling  ;  and  then  she  spoke 
out — ah,  so  gaily,  Miss  Eleanor,  so  cheerily,  that  I 
almost  started  to  hear  her:  'But  I  am  truly  making 
you  the  patient  in  my  place,  sir  ;  you  will  think  me 
the  most  tedious  visitor  you  have  ever  had ;  and  so 
many  waiting  for  the  benefit  of  your  skill.  So  let  me 
wish  you  a  good  morning,'  she  said ;  and  then,  with  a 
light  step,  leaning  on  her  mother's  arm,  she  left  the 
room.  But  the  doctor  said  not  a  word,  Miss,  for  some 
minutes,  nor  did  we  neither." 

("  Many  other  curious  things  Margaret  told  me,*' 
continued  Eleanor,  "but  I  thank  you  for  your  patience, 
and  keep  them  back  for  some  other  day." 

"  Oh,  tell  us  them  now — tell  us,"  cried  the  children. 

E   2 


52  FIVE  DA  YS'  ENTERTAINMENTS 

"  Well,  as  you  like  it,"  said  she,  gently.) 

You  remember  the  gentleman  who  gave  Margaret 
the  money  by  aid  of  which  she  was  able  to  travel  to 
the  doctor  at  Gloucester  ?  Well,  a  strange  thing, 
almost  like  what  we  read  of  in  story-books  and  novels, 
happened  about  him.  He  was  more  generous,  I  sup- 
pose, than  wise  ;  for  at  last  he  gave  away  or  lost  all 
his  money,  and  travelled  about  the  country  almost 
like  a  beggar.  Margaret  had  married,  and  gone  to 
live  near  Stroud,  when  one  day  she  heard  that  a 
robbery  had  taken  place  in  the  neighbourhood — a 
farmhouse  it  was,  I  believe,  had  been  entered  and 
some  money  carried  away.  On  some  point  of  the 
law,  Margaret  and  her  husband  were  called  to  the 
Court  as  witnesses.  What  was  her  surprize,  when, 
on  entering  the  room,  she  saw  her  friend — for  she 
knew  him  at  once  by  his  voice — standing  before  the 
magistrate,  and  endeavouring  to  defend  himself  on 
the  subject  of  the  robbery,  with  which  he  was  charged. 

It  turned  out  that  he  had  been  wandering  in  the 
neighbourhood  at  that  very  time  ;  and  as  he  could 
or  would  give  no  account  of  himself — for  he  was  a 
strange,  wild  character — and  had  more  money  about 
him  than  would  have  been  expected  from  his  dress 
and  appearance,  he  had  been  taken  up  and  brought 
before  the  Court  on  suspicion. 

He  tried  to  explain  who  he  was — that  he  was  not  a 
mere  beggar  and  vagrant,  but  had  once  been  a  man  of 


BLIND  MARGARET  53 


money  and  rank.  His  story  seemed  so  strange  that 
no  one  believed  it ;  and  there  was  no  person  in  that 
part  of  the  country  who  had  seen  him  before,  or  could 
speak  a  word  for  him. 

At  last  Margaret's  turn  to  be  examined  came,  and 
she  was  placed  in  the  witness-box. 

"  I  knew  him  directly  by  his  voice,"  she  said  ;  "  but 
of  course  that  would  not  have  been  enough  to  make 
proof  to  the  magistrate  that  he  was  the  same  person 
who  had  once  given  me  the  money,  and  who  had 
told  me  who  he  was.  But  by  God's  good  provi- 
dence it  was  that  a  thought  came  into  my  head. 
Miss  Eleanor. 

"  I  spoke  out  to  the  magistrate  what  I  have  told  you. 
Miss:  that  I  was  sure  he  was  really  what  he  said 
he  was;  and  that  if  so,  I  knew,  that  beneath  the 
middle  finger  of  his  right  hand,  if  they  looked,  they 
would  find  a  cut,  or  scar,  in  the  skin.  You  mind, 
Miss,  what  I  said  about  my  lingers  when  I  was  blind, 
and  I  had  felt  this  scar  when  he  put  the  money  into 
my  hand,  and  now  I  called  to  mind  all  about  it  as 
clear  as  daylight. 

"  And  then  I  shall  never  forget  it.  Miss  Eleanor,  to 
my  dying  day ;  for  the  magistrate  told  the  prisoner  to 
hold  up  his  hand,  and  there,  Miss,  there  was  the  mark 
of  the  cut  just  as  I  had  said. 

"*You  have  spoken  the  truth,  Margaret,'  said  the 
magistrate  ;  '  it  is  a  false  charge  ;  a  groundless  charge, 


54  FIVE  DA  YS'  ENTERTAINMENTS 


I  am  convinced,  that  has  been  brought  against  this 
person.  Let  him  go  free  from  the  Court ;  he  is  an 
innocent  man.' 

*'  We  took  him  home  to  our  poor  cottage,"  said 
Margaret,  **  for  he  was  glad  of  a  bit  of  food,  and  a  roof 
to  his  head  to  cover  him ;  and  he  lived  with  us  for 
many  days,  and  many  strange  tales  he  told  us  (for  he 
was  a  great  traveller)  of  what  had  happened  to  him 
since  he  had  given  the  money  in  charity,  many  years 
since,  to  the  poor  blind  girl — and  that  was  me.  Miss, 
as  you  see,"  concluded  Margaret. 

*'  Oh,  do  tell  us  them  ! — do  tell  us  them  now  ! "  cried 
the  children  again. 

*'  Not  now,"  said  Eleanor,  smiling  ;  "  it  is  Anna's 
turn  next." 

"  But  is  it  all  really  true  ? "  said  one  of  the  little 
boys,  with  a  very  serious  air. 

"  All — yes — really,  quite  true,"  replied  she,  making 
way  for  the  next  story-teller. 


EYES  AM)  \0  EYES  55 


ANNA'S  FIRST  TALE 


EVES   AND   NO   EYES 


"  It  is  a  new  story  with  an  old  name  that  I  have  to 
tell  you,"  said  Anna ;  **  but  I  hope  you  may  like  it 
none  the  worse  for  that.  If  you  do,  I  shall  think  you 
very  unreasonable." 

There  were  once  two  children,  who  lived  in  the 
great  street  of  the  city  of  Bagdad,  in  Persia.  There 
was  a  year's  difference  in  age  between  them  ;  but  they 
looked  much  alike  :  they  were  nearly  of  one  height, 
and  their  hair  was  of  the  same  colour.  And  no  one, 
on  seeing  them  for  the  first  time,  would  have  guessed 
that  whilst  the  one  was  gifted  with  peculiarly  clear 
and  long  sight,  the  other  could  scarcely  see  an  inch 
beyond  him. 

But  it  was  on  this  account  that  their  mother,  who 
was  a  widow  woman,  and  so  weak  in  health  that  she 
never  left  her  bed,  used  to  call  the  elder  boy,  by  way 
of  nickname.  Eye — the  younger,  No  Eye.  And  when 
the  little  one  complained  at  this,  and  was  ready  to 
cry  for  thinking  he  was  not  so  well  gifted  by  nature 
as  his  brother,  his  mother  to  comfort  him  would  say, 
what  is,  I  believe,  a  truth,  that  his  eyes  would  always 


56  FIVE  DAYS'  ENTERTAINMENTS 


improve  as  he  grew  up,  and  would  probably  outlast 
his  brother's  when  age  should  fall  on  both  of  them. 

Opposite  the  widow's  house  lived  a  barber,  the  most 
ill-tempered  man  in  all  Bagdad.  The  children  used 
to  call  him  Redpoll,  because  he  wore  a  little  close  wig, 
with  a  scarlet  patch  on  the  hinder  part ;  and  in  their 
foolish  way — for  their  mother  was  not  able,  from  her 
illness,  to  take  a  mother's  care  of  them — they  would 
even  shout  the  nickname  out  as  they  ran  by  the 
barber's  shop.  This  would  drive  him  into  a  dreadful 
passion,  and  he  vowed,  whenever  the  time  should 
come,  he  would  have  his  revenge  upon  them  for  it. 

At  last,  one  day,  as  they  were  playing  in  the  street, 
it  came  into  their  heads  to  climb  up  the  ledge  of  the 
open  shop  window — for  they  have  no  glass  in  those 
countries — and  to  peep  within.  Now  the  barber 
happened  that  morning  to  be  without  his  wig. 

"  There  is  Redpoll,"  shouted  the  eldest  boy,  as  soon 
as  he  saw  him,  "  without  his  redpoll  on  ! "  and  directly 
jumping  down,  they  both  ran  away. 

Out  rushed  the  barber,  as  the  wasps  do  when  you 
stir  up  their  nests,  and  catching  them  before  they 
could  escape  into  their  own  home,  dragged  them  by 
the  hair  into  his  shop. 

"I'll  Redpoll  you  !  I'll  see  what  the  Cadi  has  to 
say  to  you,"  he  cried.  "  What  are  your  names,  you 
little  villains  }     Tell  me  this  moment !  " 

"  Eye,"  cried  one. 


E  YES  ,  I NP  N( )  /:•  YES  5  7 

"  No  Eye!"  cried  the  second,  quite  innocently,  for 
they  knew  no  other. 

"  I ! "  shouted  the  barber,  "  I  knew  that  before,  but 
you  are  not  I,  that  I  can  tell  you.  Know  zvhyl'  he 
cried — for  though  not  naturally  witty,  yet  rage  made 
him,  as  it  has  made  many  others,  into  a  maker  of  bad 
puns  for  the  moment — turning  to  the  other,  "Yes, 
I'll  knoiv  ivJiy,  and  you  shall  know  ivhy  before  we 
have  done,"  and  he  ran  to  fetch  his  cudgel  from  off 
the  window-ledge.  Anger,  they  say,  makes  us  blind  ; 
and  so  it  was  with  the  barber.  In  his  passion  he 
fancied  that  there  was  one  wig  less  than  there  should 
be  in  the  window. 

"  Oh,  I  see  what  it  was  now,"  he  cried,  while  the 
children  stood  trembling  before  him ;  "■  I  know  who 
the  thieves  are  who  steal  my  wigs.  I  knoiv  ivJiy. 
Yes,  it  is  very  well ;  you  may  smile  now ;  but  I'll  let 
the  Cadi  know  of  it  too." 

And  without  a  moment's  delay  he  dragged  them 
through  the  back  of  his  shop,  into  a  little  court  behind, 
and  so  out  by  some  narrow  streets  to  the  Hall  of 
Justice. 

It  was  the  afternoon :  and  the  Cadi,  who  was  a  fat, 
good-natured  looking  man,  was  leaning  back,  half 
asleep,  in  his  great  marble  chair.  Right  over  his 
head  was  engraved  a  text  from  the  Koran  of  Ma- 
homet, on  Justice  ;  and  all  round  the  hall,  which  was 
\Qry  lofty,  were  similar  carvings,  after  the  fashion  of 


5 8  FIVE  DA  YS'  ENTERTAINMENTS 


Mahommedaii  buildings.  On  his  right  hand  sat  the 
MoUah,  a  learned  man  who  expounded  the  law  in 
cases  of  difficulty ;  and  in  the  hall  below  were  crowds 
of  the  people  of  Bagdad,  who  having  nothing  to  do, 
came  in  to  hear  how  justice  was  administered. 

"  Well,  what  have  we  now,  in  the  Prophet's  name  } " 
exclaimed  the  Cadi,  as  the  barber,  looking  as  fierce  as 
a  barber  can,  marched  in,  driving  before  him  the  two 
unfortunate  children. 

The  barber  stated  his  case,  and  swore  that  he  had 
seen  the  children  steal  his  wigf — a  wigf  with  a  blue 
patch  behind  ;  he  should  know  it  again  anywhere — 
and  carry  it  off,  no  doubt  to  hide  it,  as  he  had  not 
seen  it  again  from  that  moment. 

"  What  are  your  names  1 "  said  the  Cadi,  looking 
fierce  in  his  turn. 

"  Eye,"  and  "  No  Eye,"  said  the  children. 

"  I  and  No  I,"  cried  the  Cadi,  smiling  in  spite  of 
himself;  "  I  and  No  I.  Why,  then,  how  is  it,  Mollah  } 
it  is  a  case  for  you." 

The  Mollah  opened  a  large  volume  of  the  laws,  and 
looked  sternly  at  the  children. 

*'  I  and  No  I,  did  you  say } "  continued  the  Cadi  ; 
"  why  then,"  pointing  to  the  eldest,  "  you  are  I — 
and  I  am  not  I  :  and  so  I  must  be  you.  But  if  I  am 
you,  why  I  must  be  I — so  it  is,  I  must  be  I — so  you 
must  be  not  I.  But  there  are  two  of  you.  So  if 
you  are  No  I,  that  little  one  must  be  I.     But  then, 


AJ-A.V  AM)  XO  FA'KS  59 


a^^aiii,  1  am  sure  tliat  I  am  1 — at  least  1  think  so.  So 
he  must  be  No  I,  as  lie  said  :  and  you  must  be  you. 
Is  it  not  so,  Mollah  .?     What  says  the  Law  .?  " 

"  It  is  as  your  Brightness  decides,"  said  the  Mollah. 

"  But  it  is  a  serious  business,"  said  the  Cadi.  "  I  and 
No  I,  it  is  indeed — and  if  there  is  no  witness  on 
your  side,  I  must  believe  the  word  of  this  honest 
man,  the  khasterash,"  (which,  as  you  know,  is  the 
Persian  name  for  a  barber.) 

The  children  were  so  frightened  that  they  could 
not  speak.  They  knelt  down  and  gazed  upwards, 
as  if  asking  the  protection  of  Heaven  against  the 
tyranny  of  men.  Suddenly  a  light  seemed  to  fill 
the  elder  boy's  eyes  ;  he  looked  steadily  to  the 
top  of  the  building,  and  in  a  clear  voice,  as  if  reading 
something,  said — 

"  Allah  said,  Let  justice  be  done  to  the  weak  :  and, 
Let  not  children  be  condemned  without  witnesses." 

"  Where  hast  thou  learnt  this.^"  said  the  Mollah. 

"Is  it  not  written  above.?"  said  the  child — and 
pointed  to  one  of  the  texts  engraven  beneath  the 
roof  of  the  hall  of  justice,  at  the  farthest  end  of  the 
building. 

"  A  miracle,  in  the  Prophet's  name — it  is  a  miracle," 
cried  the  Mollah,  "  for  no  eye  of  man  could  read  the 
letters.  I  myself,  O  Cadi,  though  called  in  Jkigdad 
the  Hawkeyed,  can  scarcely  discern  one  word  from 
another,  so  great  is  the  distance." 


6o  FIVE  DA  YS'  ENTERTAINMENTS 


The  Cadi  looked  upwards,  but  he  likewise  was 
unable  to  read  the  text. 

"  May  the  shadow  of  your  Brightness'  beard  never 
be  less,"  said  the  barber,  who  stood  on  the  Cadi's 
left  hand,  angrily  turning  towards  him,  "  but  these  are 
the  stories  of  children." 

At  this  moment  a  shout  of  laughter  was  heard 
from  the  crowd.  ^'  Silence,  in  the  Prophet's  name  ! " 
exclaimed  the  Cadi ;  but  he  too  was  compelled  to 
laugh,  when  he  saw  the  younger  child,  who  was  a 
careful  observer  of  anything  near  him,  point  signifi- 
cantly to  a  blue  patch  on  the  very  wig  the  barber 
was  wearing. 

And  so  it  was:  the  barber,  on  seeing  the  children, 
feeling  his  head  bare,  had  snatched  up  the  wig  he 
thought  they  had  stolen,  from  the  table  where  it  was 
lying,  and  put  it  on  unconsciously.  And  his  passion 
had  since  made  him  so  blind,  that  he  had  never  been 
aware  of  what  he  had  done  ;  and  that  he  had  him- 
self committed  the  theft  with  which  he  charged  the 
children. 

The  case  was  clear.  "  Take  Eye  and  No  Eye  home," 
said  the  Cadi  to  an  officer  of  the  court,  with  all  the 
gravity  he  could  muster,  "  and  present  them  ^each 
with  a  gold  mohur  (which  I  daresay  is  worth  at  least 
as  much  as  a  sovereign) — for  such  is  the  law  of  the 
Prophet  when  any  have  been  unjustly  accused.  But 
take  the  barber,"   he   continued,   "  to  the  hatim  or 


EYES  AND  NO  EYES 


6l 


executioner, — take  the  barber,  and,  uncovering  the 
soles  of  his  feet,  let  him  receive  forty  stripes — for 
so  also  has  the  Prophet  ordered." 


The  children  and  the.  barber  were  removed. 
"  And,"  concluded  the  Cadi,  turning  to  the  Mollah, 
"  that  what  has  now  been  done  may  be  ever  held  in 
remembrance,  send  for  a  skilful  workman,  and  let 
him  carve  on  the  walls  of  the  court,  so  that  all  may 
read  it, — 

Allah  givetli  clear  sight  to  man, 
But  his  anger  blindeth  him." 


62  FIVE  DA  YS'  ENTERTAINMENTS 


"  Well  done,"  said  Mrs.  Wentworth,  giving  her 
hand  to  Anna  as  she  completed  her  tale.  *'  And  now, 
children,  guess — what  one  thread  is  it,  as  the  Cadi 
might  have  said,  which  runs  through  all  the  stories 
you  have  heard  this  afternoon  1 " 

The  children  looked  puzzled  :  but  as  they  were 
thinking,  Lucy,  who  had  hidden  herself  behind  the 
sofa,  suddenly  called  out  in  a  feigned  voice — 

"  Hear  the  words  of  wisdom,  that  proceed  from 
the  mouth  of  the  Mollah  of  Bagdad." 

"  Who  is  it  1  who  is  it .?"  shouted  all  the  rest,  half 
believing  that  the  Mollah  himself  was  among  them. 

'*  It  is  only  /,"  cried  Lucy,  showing  her  face. 
Every   one   laughed    as    they   heard  her. 

"  Except  when  children  are  in  a  passion — which 
they  never  ought  to  be,"  said  Mrs.  Wentworth,  "  I 
cannot  encourage  punning  on  my  premises." 

"  I  can  promise  you,  in  the  name  of  the  rest,  that 
it  shall  not  often  happen,"  answered  Arthur  with  a 
smile.  And  they  ran  off  to  finish  the  evening  with 
Hide-and-Seek  and  Blindman's  Buff  in  the  conser- 
vatory. 


END   OF   THE   FIRST   DAY 


'Ill,    .\l-,\\     l>A.\All'j'.> 


SECOND  DAY  6 


SECOND    DAY 


They  that  with  the  soul  can  hear, 
Let  them  to  our  tales  give  ear. 


The  wet  weather  of  the  first  day  continued  through 
the  next, — so  that  the  Grange  party  naturally  looked 
forward  with  interest  to  the  announcement  of  the 
afternoon.  Many  guesses  were  made  by  those  not 
in  the  secret,  as  to  what  the  subject  of  the  tales  was 
to  be.  But  the  story-tellers  only  looked  wise  and 
mysterious. 

When  the  due  time  came,  Charles,  collectinfr  the 
band,  led  them  into  the  drawing-room.  As  they 
entered,  the  sound  of  music  welcomed  them.  Arthur 
was  standing  by  the  pianoforte  :  whilst  Anna  struck 
the  first  notes  of  the  graceful  symphony  which  intro- 
duces Mozart's  famous  Air  in  praise  of  the  Power  of 
Music. 

These  were  the  words  sung  whilst  the  children 
ranged  themselves  in  order,  and  Emily  took  her  place 
at  the  table. 


64  FIVE  DA  YS'  ENTERTAINMENTS 


Sweet  Bells,  ring  on  ever,  for  gaily  ye  chime  : 

Tra  ra  la  la,  &c. 
Our  heart  leaps  to  hear  you  :  our  blood  beats  in  time. 

Tra  ra  la  la,  &c. 

Duet  Through  the  year  all  happy  days 

Of  your  music  borrow  : 
Yet  your  voice,  that  cries  rejoice, 

Brings  a  touch  of  sorrow. 
'Tis  your  old  familiar  strain 
That  awakes  the  past  again. 

Dear  remember'd  faces  rise, 

Days  of  infant  pleasure  ; 
Joys  that  set,  but  left  us  yet 

Cheerful  in  our  measure. 

Sweet  Bells,  &c. 


.    EMILY'S    SECOND    TALE 

ORPHEUS  AND  EURYDICE 

The  ancient  Greeks  and  Romans,  whom  we  read 
of  in  our  histories,  were  young  children  once,  and  had 
their  dolls  and  fairy  stories  as  we  have  ;  and  it  is  one 
of  these  stories  which  I  am  now  going  to  tell  you. 

Or-pheus  and  Eu-ryd-i-ce  were  king  and  queen  of 
the  land  of  Thrace.  Orpheus  was  a  good  king,  and 
though  the  people  of  that  country  were  at  first  very 
wild  and  savage,  yet  by  the  wise  laws  he  gave  and 
the  order  which  he  brought  in  among  them,  he  soon 


ORPHEUS  AND  E  UR  YD  ICE  6  5 


softened  their  rude  ways  and  taught  them  to  be  lovers 
of  peace  and  harmony. 

But  not  only  was  Orpheus  a  good  king ;  he  was 
also  a  most  skilful  and  wonderful  musician.  So  soon 
as  he  touched  his  harp,  every  one  within  hearing  was 
forced  to  stand  still  and  listen,  as  if  enchanted  :  nay, 
the  very  wild  beasts  of  the  forest  would  come  out  and 
gather  round  him,  and  stand,  as  they  stood  of  old  in 
the  garden  of  Eden,  in  peace  and  harmlessness.  The 
colts  stood  still  in  the  meadow,  the  stag  put  aside  his 
fears,  the  monkey  forgot  to  chatter,  and  the  lion  to 
roar — unless  it  were  a  deep  bass  note  now  and  then, 
which  he  threw  in  where  he  thought  it  was  wanted  by 
the  harmony,  like  a  middle-aged  lover  of  music  at 
the  opera.  And  when  Orpheus  had  finished  his  song, 
they  would  all  go  back  in  order  to  their  lairs,  and  lay 
them  down  in  quiet. 

You  will  easily  fancy  that  Queen  Eurydice  loved 
to  hear  Orpheus  play  ;  and  she  would  come  and  sit 
beside  him,  and  sing  to  the  sound  of  his  harp,  till  the 
sun  himself  was  ready  to  stand  still,  and  the  stars 
to  come  down  from  their  golden  thrones,  to  listen  to 
that  music.  We  never  hear  anything  of  the  kind  now. 
And  one  day  she  begged  Orpheus  to  take  her  with 
him  to  the  forest,  that  she  might  see  with  her  own 
eyes  the  wild  beasts  come  forth  and  range  themselves 
about  him  :  for  she  had  been  told  that  it  was  so. 
Orpheus   said  yes — only  requiring   that   even    if  she 

F 


66 


FIVE  DA  YS'  ENTERTAINMENTS 


were  terrified  at  the  sight,  she  should  remain  quietly 
by  him,  for  else  he  could  not  say  what  might  not 
befall  her. 


Then  the  King  and  Queen  went  out,  and,  sitting 
down  by  the  wood,  Orpheus  touched  his  harp.  Imme- 
diately the  lions,  and  the  wolves,  and  the  bears  came 
out  of  their  hiding-places  to  listen  to  the  wonderful 
tune.  Eurydice's  heart  began  to  fail  her  at  the  sight ; 
but  she  remembered  her  promise,  and  remained  quiet 
At  last  a  huge  lion,  who  was  called  the  King  of  the 
Forest,  came  slowly  marching  forth,  lashing  his  sides 


ORPHEUS  AND  EUKYDICE  67 


with  his  tail,  and  moving,  moving  on  to  where  Orpheus 
was  sitting.  Then  Eurydice  could  no  longer  conquer 
her  fear ;  she  rose  up  and  ran  hastily  towards  the 
river  Hebrus,  which  rolled  close  by.  In  vain  Orpheus 
entreated  her  to  return  and  not  to  fear,  for  whilst  he 
played,  no  harm  could  happen  to  her.  On  she  ran, 
till  in  the  thick  moist  grass  by  the  river  side,  a  snake 
that  was  lying  hid,  lifted  up  his  head  and  stung  her 
foot  as  she  trod  beside  him.  Eurydice  shrieked  and 
fell ;  and  when  Orpheus  ran  up  to  give  her  help,  he 
found  her  lying  cold  and  dead  on  the  grass,  while  the 
blood  oozed  from  the  wound  in  her  heel,  where  she 
had  been  bitten  by  the  serpent. 

What  should  he  do  .?  where  should  he  turn  himself? 
All  the  happiness  of  his  life  had  fled  with  his  Eury- 
dice. For  days  and  days  he  sat  on  the  river's  edge, 
singing  mournfully  as  he  touched  the  strings  of  his 
harp,  which  was  now  his  only  comfort.  The  moun- 
tains around,  Rhodope  and  Pangaea,  they  seemed  to 
bend  their  huge  heads  with  grief  at  the  song,  and  the 
river  as  it  murmured  by,  sighed  out  the  name  Eury- 
dice. At  last,  gathering  up  his  courage,  Orpheus 
determined  he  would  make  one  bold  effort  to  regain 
— if  indeed  he  might  regain — her. 

But  where  was  Eurydice  }  She  had  gone  below 
this  earth,  to  the  world  beneath  the  world,  where 
the  spirits  of  the  dead  were,  in  the  dark  kingdom 
over  which  Pluto  and  his  wife  Persephon^  have  their 


68  FIVE  DA  YS'  ENTERTAINMENTS 


dwelling.      And    there   it   was    that    Orpheus    must 
seek  her. 

As  he  went  down  the  dark  cavern  which  led  to  the 
world  of  spirits,  he  touched  his  harp,  and  at  once  the 
souls  of  thousands,  who  lay  there  in  darkness  and  in 
irrief,  came  forth  to  meet  him.  There  were  children 
who  had  died  without  having  looked  on  the  sun — 
youths  slain  in  battle — maidens  who  had  been  carried 
to  an  early  grave — and  the  parents  themselves,  who 
liad  first  wept,  and  then  rejoined  them.  They  all 
came  clustering  and  rustling  around  him,  but  he  still 
pressed  on. 

And  now  other  wonders  met  his  sight,  and  other 
wonders  were  raised  by  his  singing.  Cerberus,  the 
dog  with  three  heads,  who  guarded  the  inner  entrance, 
ceased  his  eternal  barking ;  the  fiery  wheel  to  which, 
for  crimes  done  on  earth,  Ixi'on  was  fastened,  stopped 
for  once  in  its  turning ;  and  the  stone  which  Sisyphus 
was  compelled  ever  to  roll  up  hill,  and  to  roll  it  up 
again  as  it  ran  down  towards  him,  rested  for  a  mo- 
ment on  the  summit. 

.The  heart  of  Orpheus  rose  within  him  as  he  saw  the 
power  of  his  magic  harp.  If  it  could  do  so  much, 
could  it  not  do  one  thing  more }  Through  the  alter- 
nate darkness  and  fiery  light  he  still  pressed  onwards, 
till  he  stood  before  the  throne  of  Pluto  himself  And 
then,  striking  his  harp  again,  it  sent  forth  a  tune  of 
such  beauty  and  such  power,  that  the  King  of  the 


ORPHEUS  AND  EURYDICE  69 


Dead,  raising  his  dark  eyes  from  the  ground,  gazed 
steadily  on  him.  You  have  heard  of  the  great  musi- 
cians at  school,  and  have  sometimes  tried  to  play 
some  of  their  easier  pieces.  But  nothing  that  they 
ever  wrote,  not  for  the  pianoforte  only,  but  for  whole 
bands  of  players,  could  give  any  idea  how  beautiful 
was  that  imploring  song  of  Orpheus  ;  not  if  the  gran- 
deur of  Handel,  and  the  grace  of  Mozart,  with  the 
tenderness  of  Weber,  and  the  passion  of  Beethoven, 
were  united  in  one  overwhelming  symphony.  Soon, 
by  the  words  of  the  song,  he  knew  the  desire  of 
Orpheus.  He  had  this  request  to  inake,  this  request 
only.  This  was  his  heart's  desire ;  this  was  the  woi'ld 
to  him.  Give  him  but  this  o?ie,  and  he  thought  he 
would  have  all  things.  Nothing  could  resist  that 
song  and  that  music.  Pluto  ordered  Eurydice  to  be 
brought  forth  from  the  happy  Elysian  fields,  where 
she  was  with  the  spirits  of  the  blessed,  that  she  might 
be  restored  to  her  husband.  But  one  command  was 
laid  upon  him.  She  would  follow  him  as  soon  as  he 
turned  to  ascend  to  the  upper  earth ;  but  he  was  not 
to  look  on  her  till  they  were  without  the  furthest 
bounds  o(  the  kingdom  of  Pluto.  If  he  did,  such  was 
the  will  of  Pluto,  she  would  be  lost  to  him  for  ever. 

And  now  Orpheus,  still  touching  his  harp,  turned 
round,  and  as  he  moved  onwards  through  the  caverns 
of  the  dead,  footsteps,  whose  sound  he  knew,  were 
heard  behind  him.     But  Eurydice   as  }'ct  spoke   no 


70  FIVE  DAYS'  ENTERTAINMENTS 


word.  A  fear  came  over  his  heart :  it  might  not 
altogether  be  Eurydice,  but  some  terrible  white  ghost 
that  was  following  him.  And  he  would  have  looked 
round,  but  that  the  command  of  Pluto  rose  before  his 
mind,  and  he  feared  and  obeyed. 

But  presently — he  listened  as  he  went — he  knew  it 
must  indeed  be  her  footsteps.  It  was  his  dear  wife — 
his  long-lost  Eurydice — she  whom  he  had  so  long 
known  and  loved  !  The  journey  was  all  but  finished  : 
already  the  light  of  day  shone  through  the  end  of 
the  cavern.  It  was  finished,  he  thought.  He  could 
wait  no  longer ;  he  loved  her  so  much,  he  must  see 
her.  Alas  for  the  love  that  was  too  strong  for  wis- 
dom !  He  turned  round.  It  was  Eurydice.  He  took 
her  hand,  and  fell  upon  her  neck,  warm  and  fair,  and 
kissed  her. 

"Thine,  and  not  thine!"  she  cried  out  with  tears, 
forcing  herself  from  his  arms  ;  "  Thine,  and  not  thine  ! 
Here  I  leave  thee, — and  for  ever  !  What  madness 
was  it  that  has  wasted  all  thy  toil,  and  made  thee 
turn  to  look  on  me  }  For  ever !  "  And  a  sudden 
wind  sweeping  down  the  cavern  bore  her  off"  from 
him,  and  hid  his  darling  within  the  vast  shadow  of 
a  darkness  that  no  eye  could  pierce. 

In  vain  he  grasped  the  air  ;  in  vain  he  touched  his 
harp ;  he  had  broken  the  commands  of  the  King 
before  he  had  left  the  bounds  of  his  kingdom. 

What  should  he  now  do  }   where  should  he  turn 


ORPHEUS  AND  EURYDICE  7  ^ 


himself?     No  hope  was  left  him.     He  might  wander 

by  tlie  river-side,  where  he  had  first  lost  his  Eurydicc 

— whence  he  had  gone  forth  again  to  seek  her,  and 

to  lose  her  again.     But  the  stream  murmured  to  him 

that  she  was  lost  for  ever.     He  might  take  up  his 

harp  ;    Init  where  were    the   notes   that  might   again 

make  Death  grant  what  Love   sought,  and  win   the 

ear  of  Pluto,  and  persuade  him  so  that  he  should  now 

once  more,  now  really  at  last,  restore  his  wife — that 

he  should  now 

Quite  set  free 
His  half-regained  Eurydice? 

Long  he  sat  and  sorrowed  after  her,  by  the  banks 
of  Hebrus  or  of  Strymon,  or  on  the  icy  mountains 
of  the  North,  pouring  out  by  night  a  song  that  was 
sadder  and  sweeter  than  the  nightingale's.  But  the 
chords  of  his  harp  were  broken,  and  his  hand  lost  its 
old  cunning.  There  was  but  one  note  left,  and  that 
w^as  Eurydice :  Eurydice  first  and  last,  Eurydice  only, 
only.  .  .  .  And  then,  as  one  day  he  sat  down  by  the 
forest  edge  where  he  had  last  sung  beside  his  lost 
Eurydice,  the  wild  beasts  whom  his  music  had  so 
often  charmed,  came  forth  to  hear  him.  But  their 
musician  cared  to  charm  them  no  longer.  In  the 
misery  of  his  heart  he  cast  himself  on  the  ground 
a  prey  before  them  ;  and  the  roaring  of  the  bear 
and  the  lion,  as  they  made  their  feast  over  his  limbs, 
was  the  last  dirge  of  Orpheus  and  Eurydice. 


72  FIVE  DAYS'  ENTERTAINMENTS 


Emily's  tale  left  the  children  with  moistened  eyes. 
It  was  old  and  simple,  and  most  of  it,  except  the 
part  about  Beethoven,  can  be  found  in  the  Latin  poet 
Virgil  ;  but  they  did  not  know  that,  and  cried  on  as  if 
it  were  new  and  true.  To  relieve  them,  while  Anna 
took  her  place,  a  little  song  of  Shakespeare's,  which 
my  readers  will  find  in  his  play  of  "  Henry  VIII," 
was  sung  by  Eleanor. 

Orpheus  with  his  kite  made  trees 
And  the  mountain-tops  that  freeze 

Bow  themselves  when  he  did  sing  : 
To  his  music,  plants  and  flowers 
Ever  sprung,  as  sun  and  showers 

There  had  made  a  lasting  spring. 

Everything  that  heard  him  play, 
E'en  the  billows  of  the  sea 

Hung  their  heads,  and  then  lay  by  : 
In  sv/eet  music  is  such  art, 
Killing  care  and  grief  of  heart 

Fall  asleep,  or  hearing,  die. 


ANNA'S  SECOND  TALE 

FLORIZEL  AND   ROSELLA  ;   OR,  THE   CHILDREN    IN   THE  WOOD 

Florizel  and  Rosella  lived  in  a  castle  of  Bohemia, 
which  is  a  famous  country  for  castles,  with  their  uncle 
the  Count.  Their  parents  were  dead  ;  and  they  were 
placed    under   their  uncle's   care,  who   was   to   give 


FLORIZEL  AND  ROSELLA 


thcin  the  property  whieh  belonged  to  them  so  soon 
as  they  were  ijrown  up.  The  Count  was  a  soldier, 
and  a  cruel  man.  He  treated  the  children  harshly, 
and  every  day  he  wished  that  he  could  get  rid  of 
them,  and  seize  upon  their  money  for  himself.  But 
he  was  afraid  to  do  them  any  hurt,  lest  it  should  be 
found  out,  and  the  King  his  master  should  punish 
him. 

At  last  he  sent  for  his  own  scrv^ant,  who  had  been 
with  him  to  the  wars,  and  told  him  to  take  the  chil- 
dren, and  carry  them  to  an  old  woman,  who  lived 
many  miles  away  on  the  other  side  of  the  Black 
Forest.  And  he  was  to  give  her  a  letter,  in  which 
the  Count,  without  saying  whose  children  they  were, 
ordered  her  to  take  charge  of  them,  and  to  bring  them 
up  in  her  cottage  as  her  own. 

The  servant  did  as  he  was  commanded.  He  took 
Florizel  and  Rosella,  and  a  bag  of  gold,  and  carried 
them  away  by  night  to  the  old  woman.  They  were 
only  seven  and  five  years  old,  and  as  they  could  not 
remember  their  own  parents,  and  had  been  always  un- 
kindly treated  by  their  uncle,  they  were  glad  to  go. 
And  after  a  little  while  they  became  very  happy  in 
their  new  home,  for  the  old  woman  loved  them  as 
much  as  if  they  were  her  true  children.  And  as  they 
grew  older,  it  was  only  as  a  kind  of  dream  that  they 
remembered  their  uncle  and  the  castle  in  which 
they  had  been  brought  up  during  their  infancy. 


74  FIVE  DA  YS'  ENTERTAINMENTS 


The  Count  told  his  friends  that  the  children  had 
died  of  the  autumn-fever,  and  no  one  suspected 
what  the  truth  really  was.  And  presently,  war  broke 
out  again,  and  the  Count,  with  his  servant,  left  home 
and  marched  with  the  King  to  battle. 

The  Count  was  a  brave  man,  though  he  was  so 
cruel ;  and  he  showed  himself  so  good  a  soldier,  that 
after  a  while  the  King  made  him  General  of  all  his 
armies.  And  when  peace  was  settled,  he  took  the 
Count  to  live  with  him  in  his  court,  at  the  capital 
city  of  Prague.  There  he  was  envied  by  all  for  his 
wealth  and  his  honours,  for  no  one  guessed  how 
wickedly  he  had  acted,  and  he  himself  seemed  as  if 
he  had  entirely  forgotten  Florizel  and  Rosella,  and 
all  that  he  had  done  to  them.  So  much  may  the 
mind's  eye  be  blinded  by  wealth,  and  the  ear  of 
conscience  be  stopped  by  the  sound  of  praise  and 
flattery. 

Florizel  and  Rosella  lived,  as  I  have  said,  very 
happily  with  old  Lisa,  who  brought  them  up  to  be 
pious  and  industrious  children.  She  taught  Florizel 
to  work  in  the  garden,  and  Rosella  to  take  care  of 
the  house,  as  she  herself  grew  weaker  with  age  ;  and 
in  the  evening  they  would  sit  by  her,  and  cheer  her 
with  their  pretty  songs,  for  Rosella  had  a  beautiful 
voice,  and  Florizel  accompanied  her  singing  on  the 
flute,  which  he  had  been  taught  to  use  by  the  forester. 

But  after  seven  years  had  gone  by,  it  pleased  God 


FLORIZEL  AND  R  OS  ELLA  75 

that  old  Lisa,  who  had  been  their  second  mother, 
should  fall  ill  and  die.  The  owner  of  the  cottage, 
who  was  a  wicked  man,  and  loved  nothing  in  the 
world  but  his  money  and  himself,  immediately  sent 
his  bailiff,  who  turned  the  children  out  of  their  home, 
and  left  them  to  shift  for  themselves  as  best  they 
could. 

So  Florizel  and  Rosella,  with  nothing  of  their  own 
except  the  clothes  they  wore,  and  Florizel's  little 
flute,  went  out  into  the  great  Black  Forest,  and 
wandered  up  and  down  to  seek  a  shelter,  for  it 
was  autumn,  and  the  nights  were  wet  and  chilly. 

"  We  are  like  the  real  Children  in  the  Wood,  are  we 
not  .^  "  said  Florizel. 

"  Yes,"  said  his  sister,  "  but  God  will  take  care  of 
us,  as  He  sent  His  redbreast  to  care  for  those 
children." 

"  And  we  are  older,  too,  than  they,"  said  Florizel. 
So  on  they  went,  hand  in  hand,  till  they  saw  a  long 
stream  of  light,  shining  between  the  trees.  It  was 
the  forester's  cottage.  They  tapped  at  the  door,  and 
when  he  saw  who  it  was,  he  took  them  in,  and  treated 
them  kindly.  Next  morning  he  begged  them  to  stay 
with  him,  and  said  he  v/ould  be  their  father,  as  they 
had  no  other  friends. 

But  Florizel  answered,  ''  No,"  he  would  rather  go 
out  with  his  sister,  and  seek  his  fortune  for  himself, 
for  he  knew  God  would  provide  for  them. 


76  FIVE  DAYS'  ENTERTAINMENTS 


Then  the  children  went  out  of  the  forest^  and 
wandered  from  village  to  village.  As  they  went, 
Rosella  sang,  and  Florizel  played  on  his  flute.  And 
when  the  villagers  heard  them  sing  their  beautiful 
songs,  they  would  always  ask  the  children  into  their 
cottages,  and  give  them  a  night's  rest  and  food  for 
the  next  day's  journey.  So  they  travelled  on  for 
many  days,  till  at  last  they  reached  the  capital  city. 

Early  in  the  morning  they  went  forth  to  the  King's 
palace,  and  standing  in  front  of  the  Queen's  own 
apartment,  they  began  their  music.  It  was  a  most 
lovely  German  song  which  Rosella  sang,  and  her 
brother  accompanied :  and  it  began  with  these  words, 
Eiiisam  bin  ich  nicJit  alleine.  The  Queen  was  so 
delighted  that  she  ran  to  fetch  the  King,  who  came 
out  with  all  his  court  to  the  balcony  to  listen.  Every 
one  was  charmed,  and  the  Count,  who  had  not  the 
least  notion  who  they  were,  sent  his  servant,  by  the 
King's  order,  to  give  them  each  a  golden  bracelet, 
and  to  tell  them  to  return  and  sing  again  to-morrow. 
So  Florizel  and  Rosella  went  back  and  spent  the 
rest  of  the  day  happily  together,  looking  at  their 
bracelets.  There  was  a  large  oval  carbuncle  in  the 
middle  of  Florizel's,  but  Rosella  admired  the  two 
emeralds  on  hers  much  more.  The  only  pity  was 
that  her  wrists  were  so  small  and  fine,  the  bracelet 
was  almost  too  large  for  her. 

That  evening   the   King  received   a   message   that 


FLORIZEL  AND  RO SELLA  TJ 

the  Count's  servant  desired  leave  to  speak  with  him. 
The  King  did  not  quite  like  this :  however,  he  went 
into  the  room,  where  he  found  that  the  servant  had 
been  suddenly  taken  ill,  and  was  at  the  point  of 
death.  When  every  one  had  been  sent  away,  he 
turned  to  the  King,  and  said  he  begged  him  to  hear 
a  secret  he  had  to  tell,  or  else  he  could  not  die  in 
peace.  And  then  he  told  the  King  of  all  that  the 
Count  his  master  had  done  to  Florizel  and  Rosella  ; 
how  he  had  sent  them  to  the  old  woman  who  lived 
on  the  edge  of  the  Black  Forest,  and  had  taken  their 
property  for  his  own  ;  and  how  that  morning  he  had 
seen  them — he  was  quite  sure  it  was  they — singing 
beneath  the  palace  windows.  And  then,  begging 
God  to  pardon  the  sin  he  had  shared  in,  the  servant 
turned  his  head  away  and  died. 

The  King  thought  of  what  he  had  heard  all  night, 
and  next  day,  when  the  children  came  before  the 
palace,  he  sent  for  them  and  told  them  everything, 
and  then  directed  them  what  to  do,  in  order  that 
their  uncle's  wickedness,  which  he  had  thought  no  ear 
would  ever  know  of,  might  be  made  known  to  all  the 
world,  and  he  receive  just  punishment.  Florizel  was 
highly  pleased  with  this,  and  said  he  had  always 
believed  he  was  born  to  be  a  gentleman,  and  began 
to  give  himself  airs  directl}'.  Rosella  too  was  pleased, 
only  she  told  the  King  she  hoped  he  would  not  punish 
her  uncle.     The  King  laughed  at  this,  and  so  did  the 


78  FIVE  DA  KS"  ENTERTAINMENTS 


Lord  Chamberlain,  who  was  standing  by,  only  not  so 
loud  as  the  King,  as  was  right  and  proper. 

I  now  go  on  to  tell  how  this  was  brought  about. 
In  the  evening  the  King  and  Queen,  and  all  their 
court,  met  together  in  a  large  hall  of  the  palace, 
which  was  fitted  up  as  a  theatre.  They  sat  down, 
the  King  and  Queen  in  the  front  row,  and  the  Count 
beside  them. 

Presently  a  curtain  drew  up,  and  the  two  children, 
dressed  as  they  had  been  when  they  lived  in  their 
uncle's  castle,  were  beheld  wandering,  hand-in-hand, 
through  a  scene  which  was  painted  to  resemble  a  wild 
and  gloomy  forest.  The  name  of  the  play  was  written 
up  above.     It  was — 

THE  CUMHEI  m  THE  WOOD  1 

Then  Florizel  and  Rosella,  following  the  words  of 
the  old  ballad,  told  how  they  had  been  driven  from 
their  home  by  their  cruel  uncle,  who  wished  to  murder 
them,  and  take  their  property  for  his  own. 

When  he  heard  this,  the  Count  turned  pale,  but  he 
sat  still,  and  said  nothing. 

The  play  went  on  ;  the  lamps  were  half-extin- 
guished, and  the  children,  as  they  went  up  and  down 
in  the  darkness,  were  heard  crying  out,  and  praying 
for  help,  till  their  voices  ceased,  and  there  was  utter 
silence. 


FLORIZEL  AND  ROSELLA  79 


This  was  terribly  sad  and  natural,  and  extremely 
trying  to  the  company,  some  of  whom  felt  as  if  they 
must  cry  :  and  as  the  Queen  knew  nothing  for  certain 
(although  you  may  be  sure  she  had  a  shrewd  guess  at 
what  her  royal  husband  was  about),  she  was  ready  to 
faint  and  scream  ;  and  then  the  King  could  not  help 
smiling  at  her,  and  she  sat  up  again,  and  held  her 
breath  in  the  twilight. 

Soon,  however,  the  lamps  were  lighted  again. 
Every  one  looked,  and  could  now  perceive  the  chil- 
dren, lying  side  by  side  as  if  they  were  dead,  while 
the  robin  redbreasts,  flying  down,  seemed  to  cover 
them  with  withered  leaves,  and  meantime  a  voice 
behind  the  scene  sang  the  following  words  : — 

Rest,  little  ones,  rest  'neath  the  leaves  that  we  spread  : 
So  tender — so  pure  :  are  ye  sleeping,  or  dead  ? 
Almost  the  thin  leaves  seem  to  stir  in  your  breath, 
As  though  sleep  had  taken  the  likeness  of  death. 

Rest,  bright  hair'd  one,  rest  'neath  the  leaves  that  we  spread, 
One  little  arm  stretch'd  'neath  thy  sister's  fair  head  : 
One  hand  lock'd  in  hers,  in  assurance  that  she 
Is  e'en  in  her  death  undivided  from  thee. 

Rest,  tender  and  fair,  'neath  the  leaves  that  we  spread  ; 
Lie  like  a  fresh  snow-wreath  that  Spring  clouds  have  shed. 
Thy  gentle  limbs  numb'd  in  the  chill  rustling  air. 
Thy  tender  feet  thorn-pierced,  and  trembling,  and  bare. 

Rest,  little  ones,  rest  'neath  the  leaves  that  we  spread  : 
Rest,  lips  press'd  on  lips  :  are  ye  sleeping,  or  dead  '{ 
Ye  smile,  as  in  dreaming  our  song  ye  could  hear : — 
Ye  wept  on  your  death-bed  :  ye  smile  on  your  bier. 


8o  FIVE  DA  KS"  ENTERTAINMENTS 


It  was  a  pretty  sight,  and  looked  so  real  and 
sorrowful,  that  all  who  were  not  in  the  secret  burst 
into  tears.  But  the  King  meanwhile  fixed  his  eyes 
steadily  on  the  Count,  who  blushed  scarlet :  his  limbs 
shook  under  him ;  he  rose  up,  and  tried  to  make  his 
way  out  of  the  hall. 

*'  Ho  !  Forward  ! "  cried  the  King  ;  and  at  once  the 
guard,  stepping  out  behind,  seized  and  held  the  Count 
prisoner ;  while  Florizel  and  Rosella,  as  they  had 
been  before  ordered,  rising  from  the  ground,  came 
forward.  Florizel  looked  firmly  at  his  uncle,  but 
Rosella  cast  her  eyes  downward. 

"  Do  you  know  these  children  } "  said  the  King.    ' 

But  the  Count  could  not  answer  a  single  word. 

"  Take  him  hence,"  continued  the  King,  "  and  cast 
him  into  the  innermost  dungeon  of  the  castle,  where 
he  shall  never  again  see  the  light." 

But  the  children,  kneeling  down,  stretched  out  their 
hands  to  the  King,  and  begged  him  earnestly  to  for- 
give their  cruel  uncle. 

"  Not  so,  my  children,"  said  he ;  "  God,  who  has 
brought  his  sin  to  light,  has  commanded  that  even  in 
this  world  the  wicked  should  receive  punishment. 
But  should  he  in  time  repent  truly  of  what  he  has 
done,  he  shall  be  set  free,  as  you  forgive  him,  whom 
he  has  so  much  injured.  For  it  is  a  true  story," 
concluded  he,  turning  to  the  Queen,  "  and  the  real 
Children  in  the  Wood  are  Florizel  and  Rosella." — 


FLORIZEL  AND  ROSELLA  8l 

And  I  greatly  suspect  that  the  Queen  knew  as  much 
already. 

Anna's  hearers  looked  puzzled  ;  "  1  thought  the 
Children  in  the  Wood  lived  in  Norfolk,"  said  one 
little  voice.  And  they  had  not  settled  how  this  could 
be,  when  they  were  called  upon  to  listen  to  the  next 
speaker. 

"  What  is  your  story  to  be  like  }  I  hope  it  is  not  to 
be  so  sad,"  said  Lucy. 

"  Never  mind  ;  wait  and  you  shall  hear,"  said 
Eleanor. 

"  You  might  at  least  tell  us  its  name  ! "  cried  Charles. 
"  Let  me  see.  Oh,  what  a  girl  you  are  to  go  in  for  our 
work,  and  give  your  story  a  long  Greek  name.  You 
are  as  bad  as  Emily." 

"  It's  a  pretty  name  though,"  said  she ;  ''  and  pray 
how  do  you  pronounce  it  .'' " 

"  The  new  Danafdes  —  Da-na-i-dese,"  —  replied 
Charles:  "  that's  right,  I  know.     Now  go  on." 


82  FIVE  DA  YS'  ENTERTAINMENTS 


ELEANOR'S  SECOND  TALE 

THE   NEW   DANAIDES 

"  Husband,"  said  the  Miller's  wife  one  day  to  the 
Miller,  as  they  sat  talking  together  after  breakfast, 
"  What  shall  we  do  with  our  daughters  ? " 

"  That's  your  business,"  grumbled  the  Miller  :  "  get 
them  husbands,  I  suppose." 

"  I  wish  it  were  likely,"  said  his  wife  ;  "  but  they  are 
so  foolish  and  obstinate,  I  hardly  know  how  to  manage 
them.  They  are  just  like  the  boulting-sieve  up  there 
in  the  mill :  there  is  no  good  speaking  to  them  ;  what- 
ever one  puts  in  at  one  ear,  runs  out  at  the  other." 

"  You  can't  say  that  of  my  little  Lisa,  at  least," 
replied  the  Miller.  "  Though  it  has  pleased  Heaven 
that  the  fever,  two  years  since,  should  have  taken 
away  her  hearing,  yet  she  is  by  far  the  best  and  the 
quickest  child  of  the  four  ;  and  whatever  she  may 
learn  she  never  forgets  it." 

"  That's  quite  true,"  said  his  wife. 

At  this  moment  the  door  was  quickly  opened,  and 
in  ran  the  three  eldest  daughters,  ready  dressed  and 
prepared  as  if  for  a  journey. 

"  What  now  } "  grumbled  their  father. 


• 


THE  NEW  DANAIDES  83 


"  We  will  not  be  children  any  longer,"  cried  they  in 
a  breath  ;  "  we  have  burnt  our  lesson-books,  and  \vc 
will  go  out  and  see  the  world  for  ourselves.  What  is 
the  use  of  living  in  a  mill  all  one's  hfe  ?" 

"  Foolish,  wicked  children  !  "  cried  their  mother  ; 
but  they  onl)-  laughed  the  more. 

"  We  have  made  up  our  minds,  and  are  going  to 
Vienna,  where  our  Aunt  Catherine  Hves,  to  stay  with 
her  and  find  husbands,"  they  continued.  "  We  will 
go,  and  nothing  shall  stop  us." 

'•  O  husband  !  husband  !  "  screamed  their  mother, 
in  great  alarm  and  perplexity. 

"  Let  them  go  by  all  means,  if  they  wish  it," 
grumbled  he.  "  A  wilful  man  will  have  his  own  way, 
and  a  wnlful  girl  is  no  better." 

The  words  were  scarcely  out  of  his  mouth  when  off 
ran  the  daughters,  to  order  the  cart  to  be  brought  out, 
and  the  horses  put  in,  to  carry  them  to  Vienna.  And 
as  they  went  they  sang  :  — 

The  hart  he  loves  the  high  wood  : 

The  hare  she  loves  the  hill : 
The  knight  he  loves  his  bright  sword  : 

But  the  lady  loves  her  will. 

"  Foolish  sieve-heads  ! "  said  their  father.  *'  Foolish 
sieve-heads  !  Burn  their  books,  indeed  !  much  the\' 
have  learnt  from  them.  But  boult  bran,  say  I.  and 
have  done  with  it." 

G  2 


84  FIVE  DA  YS'  ENTERTAINMENTS 


'*  However,  at  least,"  he  continued,  looking  grave, 
for  he  was  more  grieved  at  his  daughters'  folly  than  he 
could  well  express,  **  Lisa  shall  go  with  them.  Deaf 
as  she  is,  she  will  be  the  only  one  of  the  party  with 
her  ears  open." 

And  so  it  was  fixed.  Their  mother  went  for  Lisa, 
and  taking  her  slate,  wrote  down  on  it  w-hat  had 
happened,  and  that  she  w^as  to  go  with  her  sisters  to 
Vienna,  and  keep  them  from  harm  as  much  as  possible. 
And  Lisa,  who  was  a  good,  obedient  girl,  promised  at 
once  to  obey,  although  in  her  heart  she  did  not  believe 
that  her  sisters  were  likely  to  get  into  mischief.  I  am 
sure,  if  I  had  any  sisters,  they  would  think  the  same 
about  me. 

Before  long  all  was  ready,  and  the  four  daughters 
.^:tarted.  As  his  parting  present,  their  father  gave 
them  each  one  piece  of  advice, — 

"  Mouths  closed  and  eyes  open,  is  the  rule  for 
travellers." 

Lisa  said  nothing,  but  the  rest  promised  they  would 
be  quite  sure  to  remember.  Then,  begging  a  blessing 
on  their  journey,  the  parents  let  them  go,  and  returned 
to  their  home  with  a  heavy  heart. 

The  driver  flourished  his  whip,  the  horses  went 
merrily  on ;  the  bells  on  the  harness  jingled  (you 
know^  all  this  happened  in  Germany),  and  the  three 
elder  sisters  were  in  high  spirits.  Presently,  forgetting 
their  father's  words,  they  began  talking  and  screaming 


THE  NEW  DAN  AIDES  85 


at  the  top  of  their  voices,  so  that  you   might  have 
heard  them  for  miles  around. 

"  Poor  Lisa  ! "  they  said,  for  they  knew  she  could 
not  hear  them ;  "  I  suppose  she  is  sent  to  take  care  of 
us  ;  but  we  know  who  will  want  caring  for." 

But  Lisa  sat  still,  and  kept  her  eyes  fixed  on  a  book 
her  father  had  given  her  as  she  went,  which  contained 
an  account  of  a  journey  from  Rome  to  Naples. 

Looking  up  at  last,  she  saw  they  were  now  many 
miles  from  home,  and  in  the  midst  of  a  long  valley 
with  high  mountains  on  each  side.  And  she  began  to 
guess  the  reason  of  her  father's  advice — "  Mouths 
closed,  and  eyes  open."  For,  in  fact,  this  valley  was 
a  famous  place  for  robbers,  who  if  they  heard  any 
travellers  going  by,  were  sure  to  rush  out  from  their 
caves  and  hiding-places,  and  carry  them  off,  to  kill 
them,  or  to  make  them  prisoners.  And  she  could  not 
help  thinking  that  she  saw  the  ends  of  guns,  or  a  long 
stick  or  two  at  any  rate,  peering  out  among  the  bushes 
where  the  road  narrowed  a  little  further  on. 

Lisa  called  out  to  her  sisters,  and  telling  them  what 
she  thought,  she  begged  them  to  remember  their 
father's  advice,  and  to  be  silent  (for  she  could  not 
help  seeing,  by  the  movement  of  their  lips,  that  they 
were  talking  loudly)  at  least  for  the  present. 

"  Our  father's  advice  ! "  they  cried  to  each  other 
"  I  never  remember  hearing  it ; "  and  they  laughed 
more  loudly  than  ever. 


86  FIVE  DA  K9'  ENTERTAINMENTS 


But  all  at  once  a  shout,  louder  than  their  laughter, 
was  heard  about  them  ;  and  the  rocks  and  bushes, 
that  had  looked  so  dead  and  quiet,  seemed  now  alive 
with  armed  men.  The  robbers  were  upon  them.  In 
vain  the  driver  tried  to  push  his  horses  on :  the  traces 
were  cut  ;  the  travellers  taken  out,  made  prisoners, 
and  carried  off  to  the  robbers'  cave  among  the 
mountains. 

Very  disagreeable  work  it  was  for  the  girls  to  climb 
the  hillside  in  this  way.  I  can't  say  how  much  their 
neat  shoes  and  white  stockings  were  the  worse  for  it ; 
and  one  of  them  lost  her  best  shawl-pin  before  they 
reached  the  cave.  There  they  found  the  rest  of  the 
band,  together  with  one  prisoner,  whom  they  had 
taken  the  day  before — a  young  man  who  was  going 
to  study  medicine  at  the  University  of  Jena,  and  who 
was  stupid  enough  not  to  look  pleased  when  so  many 
young  ladies  were  added  to  the  party.  But  then  all 
this  happened  in  Germany. 

The  robbers  seated  themselves  and  their  prisoners 
by  a  fire  that  was  burning  at  the  cave's  mouth.  Seeing 
presently  what  imprudent  and  talkative  persons  the 
three  daughters  were,  and  wishing  to  make  the  most 
of  their  good  luck,  they  treated  them  civilly  ;  but  they 
sent  Lisa  to  the  farthest  end  of  the  cave  to  feed  on 
bread  and  water,  with  no  companion  except  the  un- 
fortunate Student. 

The  Student  asked  Lisa  in  a  whisper  who  she  was, 


THE  NEW  t)  AN  AIDES  87 


and  how  she  had  fallen  into  the  robbers'  hands.  y\nd 
at  first  it  puzzled  him  greatly  to  find  that  she  c^^ave 
him  no  answer.  He  had  never  been  treated  so  by 
any  young  lady  before,  except  once  by  the  daughter 
of  the  Head  of  his  College,  when  he  asked  her 
whether  she  did  not  like  Mendelssohn  better  than 
Strauss.  But  Lisa  picked  up  a  bit  of  flat  stone  from 
the  ground,  and  scratching  on  it  a  few  words,  gave  it 
to  him. 

Now  this  Student  was  really  a  clever  and  ready 
man  :  so  without  saying  a  word  he  hunted  about  the 
cave,  and  presently  found  a  small  piece  of  wood. 
This  he  scooped  out  with  a  knife,  until  he  had  cut  it 
to  the  shape  of  a  sea-shell,  or  little  trumpet,  such  as 
deaf  persons  use,  for  he  had  often  seen  such  in  hos- 
pitals. He  placed  this  in  Lisa's  ear ;  and  now  to  her 
surprise  and  joy  she  again  heard  the  sounds  of  a 
human  voice,  as  he  whispered  to  her  '*  Not  to  fear,  for 
he  was  a  friend."  She  was  ready  to  throw  herself  on 
her  knees  and  thank  God  for  the  cure,  which,  as  it 
seemed,  had  been  so  wonderfully  wrought  in  her  ;  but 
her  sisters'  voices,  talking  and  laughing  loud  as  ever, 
struck  on  her  ear,  and  she  turned  with  surprize  and 
alarm  to  listen  to  what  was  going  on  :  for  the  little 
trumpet  was  so  cleverly  made,  that  she  really  could 
hear  almost  distinctly  now. 

The  robbers  amongst  whom  they  had  fallen  were  a 
bold,  handsome  set  of  men  :  not  ignorant  of  the  ways 


88  FIVE  DA  YS'  ENTERTAINMENTS 


of  rendering  themselves  agreeable  when  they  thought 
they  could  gain  anything  by  it.  And  several  of  them 
by  their  flatteries  and  tales  of  adventure  had  already 
made  themselves  so  pleasant  to  the  three  foolish 
sisters,  that  they  appeared  to  be  the  best  friends  in 
the  world,  and  their  imprudent  talk  gave  Lisa  the 
greatest  alarm.  "  Mouths  closed  and  eyes  open,"  she 
thought  to  herself ;  but  already  her  sisters  were  giving 
the  robbers  full  information  as  to  where  their  father 
lived, — about  his  mill,  and  his  money.  "  We  shall  each 
of  us  have  a  good  fortune,"  said  the  oldest.  *'  Our 
father  keeps  his  money  always  ready  by  him,"  said 
the  next.  "  We  know  all  about  it,"  said  the  third. 
The  robbers  winked  to  each  other  as  they  heard  this, 
and  it  was  quite  clear  to  Lisa  and  the  Student,  that 
the  next  thing  would  be,  that  they  would  attack  and 
rob  the  Miller. 

"  Your  sisters  do  not  seem  to  have  much  prudence," 
said  he,  in  a  low  voice ;  ''  they  are  like  those  ancient 
Greek  maidens — the  Danaides  I  think  they  were 
called, — whom  I  have  read  of,  who  were  condemned, 
as  the  poets  say,  for  their  folly  on  earth,  to  pour 
water  eternally  into  a  sieve." 

"  I  never  heard  of  them,"  said  Lisa  :  "  but  do  not 
find  fault  with  my  sisters  :  I  am  afraid  it  is  too  true. 
But  I  must  go,"  she  added,  seeing  the  robbers  now 
consulting  earnestly  together,  "  and  hear,  if  I  can, 
what  their  plans  may  be." 


THE  NEW  DANA1DES  89 


Hiding  the  little  trumpet  in  her  hand,  Lisa  went 
forward  to  her  sisters,  and  took  her  seat  by  them  at 
the  fire  :  when  after  a  while  they  fell  asleep.  Thinking 
Lisa  deaf,  the  robbers  talked  openly  on  ;  and  quickly 
lifting  the  little  tube  to  her  ear,  she  presently  heard 
them  say,  that  they  would  set  out  that  very  night  for 
her  father's  mill,  and  plunder  it. 

Lisa  crept  back  and  told  what  she  had  heard  to 
the  Student.  But  how  should  they  prevent  it }  They 
were  only  two,  and  one  of  them  a  girl,  and  the  robbers 
were  half-a-dozen,  all  handsome  young  men.  What- 
ever plan  they  could  think  of,  was  full  of  danger  : 
and  yet  the  night  was  passing  away,  and  something 
must  be  done.  So  the  Student,  who  was  very  brave 
and  resolute,  quietly  rose  up  and  moved  towards 
the  robbers.  Pretending  to  think  them  asleep,  he 
ran  quickly  towards  the  mouth  of  the  cave,  as  if 
about  to  escape  from  it.  With  a  loud  shout  the 
robbers  rose  up  and  endeavoured  to  seize  him.  In  the 
confusion  the  lights  were  knocked  over,  and  Lisa,  as 
had  been  settled,  rushing  hastily  by,  passed  through 
the  door,  and  soon  found  herself  safe  from  pursuit  in 
the  valley.  "  She  is  only  the  deaf  one,"  said  the 
robbers,  "  and  can  do  us  no  harm — we  will  let  her  go." 

But  as  no  time  was  to  be  lost,  they  tied  the  Student, 
with  many  blows,  hand  and  foot,  and  carried  him  to 
the  end  of  the  cave, — threatening  that  if  he  stirred 
they   would    instantly    kill    him.     Then,  leaving   the 


90  FIVE  DA  YS'  ENTERTAINMENTS 

three  sisters  still  fast  asleep  by  the  fire,  they  marched 
out  in  a  band  down  the  valley. 

But  Lisa  had  been  before  them.  Running  on  with 
all  the  speed  she  could,  within  two  hours  she  reached 
the  mill,  and  had  just  time  to  av/aken  her  father  and 
the  servants,  and  tell  them  what  was  about  to  happen, 
when  a  loud  whistle  was  heard  in  the  darkness  with- 
out, and  in  a  moment  the  robbers  were  upon  them. 

But  it  was  too  late  :  all  within  were  prepared.  A 
shot  from  the  Miller  laid  the  foremost  robber  on  the 
ground ;  his  men  rushed  out,  and  knowing  well  every 
spot  about  the  mill,  managed  to  surround  the  band. 
And  after  a  few  minutes'  fight,  seeing  their  plan  had 
been  discovered,  the  robbers  gave  in,  and  were  bound 
hand  and  foot  in  their  turn. 

But  as  soon  as  it  was  day,  the  Miller,  with  Lisa  to 
guide  him,  set  off  for  the  cavern.  On  the  way  she 
told  him  of  all  that  had  happened,  and  how  skilfully 
the  Student  had  given  back  to  her  her  long-lost  sense 
of  hearing.  They  found  the  three  sisters  just  awaking 
from  sleep.  "  Vienna  is  a  nice  place,"  said  the  eldest, 
not  remembering  where  she  really  was.  "  I  have  got 
a  handsome  husband,  "  said  the  second.  "  I  knew  it 
would  happen :  so  I  know  all  about  it,"  yawned  out 
the  third.  ''  Lisa  may  take  the  foolish  Student  and 
marry  him  if  she  pleases." 

"  So  it  shall  be  !  "  said  their  father,  who  to  their 
immense  surprize   now   suddenly  stepped  in  among 


THE  DISAPPOINTED  PRINCE  91 

them.  "  So  it  shall  be  !  "  Going  up  to  the  Student, 
he  cut  asunder  tlic  ropes  that  bound  him.  "  He 
deserves  her  well  ;  for  not  only  has  he  restored  her 
to  hearing,  but  us  to  life." 

The  Student  came  forward,  and  Lisa  gave  him  her 
hand. 

'*  But  we  will  go  on  to  Vienna,"  said  the  daughters, 
who  wished  to  make  the  best  of  everything,  and 
were  not  at  all  ashamed  of  their  conduct. 

*'  You  may  go  with  all  my  heart,"  grumbled  out 
the  Miller,  "  for  there  is  no  power  in  the  world  that 
can  keep  wisdom  in  the  heads  of  the  foolish  and  the 
obstinate.  I  can  choose,  and  grind,  and  boult  corn," 
he  concluded,  turnincf  to  the  Student,  '*  but  vou  will 
allow,  that  I  cannot  turn  a  sieve  into  a  bucket." 

Eleanor  now  took  her  place  by  the  pianoforte.  It 
was  Arthur's  turn,  and  he  began  without  hesitation. 


ARTHUR'S     SECOND     TALE 

THE  DISAPPOINTED   PRINCE 

The  Duke  of  Franconia  had  an  only  daughter, 
named  Bertha.  Like  the  Princess  Fiammetta,  of 
whom  I  told  you  in  my  first  story.  Bertha's  father 
was  very  fond  of  her,  and  had  brought  her  up  in  all 


92  FIVE  DAYS'  ENTERTAINMENTS 

the  knowledge  which  young  ladies  commonly  learned 
several  centuries  ago.  She  could  embroider  in  silk, 
and  precious  gems,  and  gold,  till  her  work  stood 
upright  with  its  own  stiffness :  she  rode  out  to  hunt- 
ing-parties in  the  forest  with  a  falcon  on  her  wrist  : 
and  on  other  days  she  would  read  a  romance,  or  novel, 
from  an  illuminated  manuscript, — for  printed  books 
were  not  then  thought  of, —  in  fourteen  volumes, 
and  divided  into  not  less  than  forty-four  separate 
books  or  cantos.  —  (Just  think!  What  good  old 
days  those  were,  when  novels  were  in  fourteen 
volumes !)  But  like  Fiammetta,  Bertha  attended  more 
to  what  she  heard  from  the  old  Nurse  who  had 
brought  her  up  from  her  infancy  than  to  any  of  her 
teachers.  The  Duke's  castle  stood  in  the  midst  of  the 
great  Hartz  mountains,  which  from  time  unknown, 
as  those  who  lived  there  said,  had  been  haunted  by 
fairies  and  spirits  without  number.  Every  one  had 
seen  the  elves  dance,  by  night,  in  their  curious 
circles  :  the  Wild  Huntsman  made  the  woods  echo 
to  hound  and  horn :  and  a  spirit,  who  went  by  the 
name  of  the  Dame  Blanche,  or  White  Lady,  was 
wont  to  give  warning  by  loud  shrieks  whenever  any 
evil  was  about  to  fall  on  the  owners  of  the  castle. 
Bertha,  who  had  been  brought  up  to  hear  such  tales 
from  her  cradle,  believed  them  without  hesitation. 

As  she  was  her  father's  only  heiress,  she  was  soon 
sought   in  marriage  by  the  neighbouring   lords  and 


THE  DISAPPOINTED  PRINCE  93 

princes.  ]^ut  there  was  none  who  so  much  pleased 
the  Duke,  her  father,  as  Prince  Ferdinand  of  Bavaria. 
Whenever  any  feast  might  be  held  at  the  castle,  he 
was  sure  to  be  present,  and  to  do  himself  credit  by 
his  skill  and  bravery  in  all  the  manly  exercises  of 
that  day.  None  could  equal  him  in  that  famous 
game  wherein  two  horsemen,  riding  furiously  at  each 
other,  endeavoured  each  to  unseat  his  enemy:  none 
were  more  skilled  in  the  use  of  the  bow  or  the  broad- 
sword. And  besides  all  this,  he  was  an  admirable 
musician,  and  could  have  charmed  the  savageness 
out  of  a  bear,  if  it  had  been  desirable  to  do  so,  as  he 
touched  the  lute  or  cithern.  It  was  not  strange  that 
so  many  gifts  and  graces  should  have  won  for  him 
the  favour,  and  even  something  like  the  love,  of 
Bertha.  And  as  she  now  had  reached  her  eighteenth 
year,  it  was  her  father's  wish  to  fix  the  day  of  her 
marriage  with  as  little  delay  as  possible.  But 
although  every  one  else  in  the  castle  was  the  Prince's 
friend,  for  some  reason  or  other  Bertha's  nurse  bore 
him  great  ill-will  and  hatred.  People  said  he  had 
called  her  a  witch :  and  no  doubt  she  looked  like  one. 
Every  day  she  tried  her  utmost  to  bring  over  her 
young  mistress  to  her  own  mind  ;  and  to  persuade 
her  to  break  off  the  intended  marriage.  Bertha, 
however,  was  by  no  means  inclined  to  agree.  "  What 
a  fine  thing,"  she  would  say,  "  it  will  be  for  me  to 
have  a  castle,  all  for  my  real  own,  to   live  in — with 


94  FIVE  DAYS'  ENTERTAINMENTS 

my  soldiers  and  servants,  and  my  own  woods  to  hunt 
in  ! "  And  then,  in  hopes  to  please  Nurse,  she  would 
add, "  And  you  too  shall  come  with  me,  dear  Nurse, 
and  shall  have  a  set  of  rooms  for  yourself,  and  a 
little  serving-maid  to  wait  on  you,  and  every  day 
I  will  come  and  sit  with  you,  and  you  shall 
tell  me  wonderful  stories,  as  you  did  when  I  was  a 
child,  such  a  long  while  ago."  But  nothing  could 
satisfy  the  old  woman,  who  every  day  hated  Prince 
Ferdinand  more  and  more,  and  declared  she  was 
sure  some  harm  would  come  of  the  marriage.  One 
morning  she  rushed  in  hastily  to  Bertha,  and 
screamed  out  that  she  had  heard  the  White  Lady 
moaning  and  crying  round  the  castle,  as  she  had 
done  at  the  death  of  Bertha's  mother. 

"  The  White  Lady  means  that  we  should  marry 
as  soon  as  possible,"  said  Bertha  laughing,  but  still 
feeling  rather  alarmed.  *'  Indeed,  I  am  sure,"  she 
continued,  "it  was  not  the  White  Lady  at  all,  but 
the  magic  music  of  the  Good  Angels :  which  you 
know  shows  that  they  bless  whatever  we  are  about. 
I  heard  it  last  night  myself,  when  I  was  sleeping." 

But  for  all  this  Nurse  was  not  to  be  convinced. 
And  at  last,  in  hopes  to  satisfy  her,  Bertha  promised 
that  if  she  did  not  hear  the  Angels'  music  that  very 
night  she  would  beg  her  father  to  send  away  Prince 
Ferdinand,  and  break  off  the  marriage  altogether. 

Now  it  so  happened  that  a  little  Page  of  Bertha's 


THE  DISAPPOINTED  PRINCE  95 


was  in  tlic  room  whilst  this  was  going  on.  And 
as  he  loved  Prince  Ferdinand,  who  had  promised 
to  give  him  a  horse  and  hunting-horn,  one  day — 
he  ran  down  directly  to  the  great  hall,  where  he 
knew  Prince  Ferdinand  was,  and  told  him  of  all  he 
had  heard.  Ferdinand  laughed  :  and  as  he  was 
clever  as  well  as  brave,  he  immediately  bethought 
him  of  a  plan  by  which  he  could  make  sure  of  his 
marriage  :  for  he  dearly  loved  Bertha,  and  was  willing 
to  do  anything  (that  was  not  wrong)  for  her  sake. 
And  he  directly  set  about  his  plan.  Getting  a  long 
box,  made  of  thin  slips  of  deal,  he  stretched  a  few 
strings  loosely  across  the  top,  and  thus  made  what 
some  of  you  may  have  seen  or  heard  of  as  an  Aeolian 
harp.  And  when  evening  fell,  he  hastened  to  place 
it  in  a  nook  below  Bertha's  window :  for  he  knew 
that  when  the  wind  blew  over  it  the  strings  would 
sound  of  themselves,  and  convince  even  Nurse  her- 
self that  she  had  heard  the  magic  music  of  the  Good 
Angels. 

Everything  fell  out  as  he  had  planned  it.  Between 
fear  and  pleasure.  Bertha  could  hardly  trust  her  own 
self  as  she  heard  the  wild  notes  of  the  harp  sounding 
through  the  night.  As  the  chords  faintly  quivered 
beneath  the  first  soft  handling  of  the  evening  gale, 
the  music  must  be,  she  thought,  afar  off  in  the  gray 
distance.  But  as  the  wind  strengthened,  it  seemed  to 
roll  up  the  valley  to  the  castle,  to  come  close  beside 


96  FIVE  DA  K9'  ENTERTAINMENTS 


her  window,  and  then  go  right  up  to  heaven  and  die 
away  among  the  stars. 

She  thought  that  it  was  fancy,  and  she  listen'd  in  her  bed  : 

And  then  did  something  speak  to  her — she  knew  not  what  was  said  ; 

For  great  delight  and  shuddering  took  hold  of  all  her  mind, 

And  up  the  valley  came  again  the  music  on  the  wind. 

When  the  morning  came,  no  further  objections  could 
be  made.  Bertha  welcomed  Ferdinand  as  she  had 
never  welcomed  him  before :  all  delays  were  at  an 
end,  and  the  marriage  was  fixed  to  take  place  as  soon 
as  seven  days  were  over. 

The  Nurse  now  began  to  fear  that,  do  what  she 
might,  nothing  could  hinder  Bertha's  marriage  with 
Ferdinand.  But  the  more  likely  it  seemed,  the  more 
her  spite  and  anger  increased,  and  she  determined  to 
leave,  as  they  say,  no  stone  unturned  if  she  could 
anyhow  prevent  it.  But  the  time  was  quickly  going 
by.  Three  days  had  passed,  and  nothing  was  to  be 
seen  or  heard  but  preparations  for  what  was  about 
to  happen.  All  the  handmaidens  of  the  castle  were 
at  work  shaping,  and  cutting,  and  embroidering 
the  dresses  for  the  bride.  There  was  one  evening 
dress,  all  trimmed  with  pearls  and  emeralds,  one 
emerald  to  every  five  pearls,  which  was  pronounced 
by  all  the  world  the  most  sweetly  pretty  thing  ever 
seen  in  Franconia ;  and  I  daresay  it  was.  It  took, 
however,  a  great  deal  of  work  in  fixing  the  pearls  and 


THE  DISAPPOINTED  PRINCE  97 

emeralds,  and  so  the  maids  begged  the  Nurse  to  lend 
her  help  in  the  work.  But  she  crossly  refused,  and 
sallied  forth  from  the  castle  to  avoid  their  entreaties. 
As  she  paced  round  the  walls,  looking  up  angrily  at 
them,  something  caught  her  eye  fixed  in  one  of  the 
window-sills  immediately  below  Bertha's  room.  It 
was  the  very  Aeolian  harp,  which,  in  the  joy  of  his 
heart,  Ferdinand  had  carelessly  left  there  after  the 
night  when  it  had  done  him  such  good  service  !  The 
old  woman's  eye  flashed  with  wicked  pleasure.  She 
took  the  little  box  down,  and  looking  at  it  carefully, 
in  a  moment  she  understood  the  secret  of  the  mag-ic 
music.  But  she  carried  it  off,  and  without  saying  a 
word,  hid  it  in  her  own  room  for  the  present. 

Ferdinand  never  suspected  what  had  happened. 
He  often  spoke  of  the  music,  which  he  said  had 
done  more  to  win  him  his  bride  than  his  love  or 
his  bravery.  And  so  the  days  passed.  On  the  last 
evening,  a  dreadful  storm  arose  in  the  valley.  The 
rain  fell,  and  the  winds  as  they  rose  howled  through 
the  old  forest,  and  sent  their  wild  shrieks  like  swords 
through  the  castle  casements.  And  the  servants 
afterwards,  one  and  all,  declared  that  on  that  night 
they  had  heard  the  White  Lady  forbidding  in  clear 
words  the  approaching  marriage  of  the  young  heiress. 

But  next  morning  the  sun  rose  clear  and  the  skies 
were  cloudless.  Midday  came,  and  every  one  met 
together  in  the  chapel  for  the  wedding.     The  bells  of 

H 


98  FIVE  DAYS'  ENTERTAINMENTS 

the  village  that  lay  below  the  castle  sounded  merrily  : 
the  chapel  was  filled  with  a  crowd  of  knights  in  full 
armour,  the  friends  and  relations  of  Bertha  and  Ferdi- 
nand. The  Priest  stood  in  full  robes  before  the 
altar,  ready  to  say  the  words  of  blessing,  and  the 
Duke  was  talking  with  the  prince's  father,  the  King 
of  Bavaria.  Ferdinand  lookd  alternately  at  his  bride, 
— who  stood  beside  him,  her  face  and  head  covered 
with  the  veil,  below  which  her  hair  fell  in  long 
golden  streams, — and  at  himself,  his  own  armour 
and  knightly  dress,  in  fear  lest  he  should  not  seem 
worthy  to  come  into  possession  of  so  much  beauty. 
But  on  the  whole  he  was  not  much  alarmed  at  the 
sight ;  and  if  he  was  not  satisfied,  all  I  can  say  is,  that 
he  must  have  been  very  hard  to  please. 

But  at  this  moment  a  rustling  and  clanking  was 
heard  in  the  crowd,  as  they  parted  to  make  way  for  the 
aged  Nurse,  who  forced  a  path  to  the  altar.  At  the 
feet  of  Bertha  she  laid  a  small  box.  Ferdinand  turned 
pale  at  the  sight  :  whilst  the  Duke  and  the  King  of 
Bavaria  looked  angrily  on  at  the  interruption. 

"  I  have  brought  my  gift  to  the  bride,  as  is  fitting," ' 
she  said.  "  Take  it  ;  and  then — if  you  dare — give 
yourself  to  Prince  F'erdinand  !  It  was  not  the  magic 
music  of  the  Good  Angels  that  you  heard,"  she  con- 
tinued— breathing  on  the  strings,  till  once  more  Bertha 
started  at  those  sweet  unearthly  notes — "  it  was  no 
But  I  take  all  to  witness,"  she  said. 


THE  DISAPPOtNTED  PRINCE  99 

turning  and  looking  to  the  crowd,  who  sluiddcrcd 
with  fear,  so  deeply  was  the  belief  fixed  in  each  mind 
— "  that  last  night  there  was  a  warning  in  the  air — 
and  not  only  I  heard  it — but  all — all !  I  bid  you 
beware  of  the  White  Lady  ! " 

Bertha  turned  pale— sank  back  in  her  father's  arms 
in  a  terror  which  she  could  not  conquer.  It  was  in 
vain  that  the  King  ordered  the  Priest  to  proceed  :  it 
was  in  vain  that  her  father  endeavoured  to  give  her 
comfort  :  it  was  in  vain  that  Ferdinand  begged  her  to 
think  his  love  and  his  strong  arm  a  sufficient  defence 
against  an  old  wife's  fable.  Idle  as  it  was,  the  belief 
of  years  was  not  to  be  overcome  by  the  persuasion  of 
a  moment :  she  could  neither  listen  to  command,  to 
counsel,  or  to  affection :  and  the  disappointed  Prince 
returned  home  to  endeavour  to  forget  the  loss  of  a 
bride  whose  mind  could  not  outgrow  the  feelings  of 
her  childhood. 

The  melancholy  end  of  Arthur's  tale  did  not  seem 
to  give  satisfaction.  Every  one  felt  disappointed, 
along  with  the  hero  of  the  story  :  Arthur  said  "  Why  ! 
the  story'  really  ended  so  !  I  cannot  help  it !  "  But 
this,  it  was  felt  by  every  one,  would  not  do ;  and 
silence  was  only  broken  by  the  voice  of  the  fifth  of 
the  young  novelists. 


H   2 


lOO  FIVE  DAYS'  ENTERTAINMENTS 


CHARLES'    SECOND    TALE 

THE  UNCAGED   LION 

The  Prince  had  ridden  out  early  to  a  hunting 
party,  leaving  his  newly-wedded  wife  to  find  amuse- 
ment to  fill  up  the  hours  till  evening.  As  the  sound 
of  the  bugle-horns  made  it  known  that  the  party, 
collected  in  the  castle  courtyard,  had  sallied  forth, 
she  mounted  to  the  topmost  tower,  and  directing  her 
eyes  to  a  waste  stony  flat  over  which  the  hunting 
train  was  to  pass,  she  watched  the  Prince  as  he  rode 
gaily  onwards.  And  ever  and  anon  she  would  wave 
her  handkerchief  to  him,  as  she  thought  he  stopped 
for  a  moment  and  looked  back  to  her.  But  this  may 
have  been  only  a  fancy  on  her  part. 

She  was  presently  joined  by  her  uncle,  the  Count 
Frederic.  After  a  glance  at  the  now  rapidly  disap- 
pearing party,  he  turned  his  fair  niece's  attention  to 
the  ruins  of  the  Stammburg,  or  ancient  castle  of  the 
family,  which,  after  the  fashion  of  those  warlike  days, 
occupied  the  summit  of  a  lofty  rock  at  half  a  mile's 
distance. 

"  Do  but  look,"  said  he,  cheerfully,  ''  at  the  main 
tower,  which  rises  from  the  loftiest  of  the  rocks,  and 
is  so  firmly  connected  and   incorporated  with   it  by 


THE  UNCAGED  LION  lOl 


solid  masonry,  that  no  <;ye  can  distinguish  where 
nature  leaves  off  and  art 'and'  la^bour  'l^lyt  begun 
their  handiwork.  Observe  how ;  .-the y  mighty  pile, 
warred  on  and  w^arring,  has  fov  ages  ■  briefly  tnet  the 
violence  of  the  seasons  : — how  here  and  tjiere  its  w^alls 
have  had  to  yield,  and  rush  down  into  wild  ruins. 
See  too  how  thickly  the  trees,  sowing  themselves  by 
all  winds  in  every  nook  and  cranny  of  rock  and 
stone-work,  have  encompassed  the  base  of  the  tower 
with  a  living  forest,  and  have  even  crowned  the 
summit  with  a  gay  and  waving  circlet !  " 

"  Since  I  took  up  my  abode  here,"  said  the  Princess, 
"  it  has  been  my  wish  to  examine  more  closely  that 
old  ruin,  and  above  all,  to  penetrate  into  the  interior 
of  the  main  tower." 

'*  Your  wish  may  be  easily  gratified,  my  fair  cousin," 
answered  the  Count.  "  I  myself  long  felt  the  liveliest 
curiosity  to  explore  the  building,  and  at  last,  by  tlie 
aid  of  wood  and  stone  cutters,  a  way  has  been  hewn, 
through  trees  and  vaults,  into  the  interior.  You  can 
also  mount  to  the  summit  by  a  winding  stair  in  the 
turret,  and  from  it  look  down  on  the  level  surface  of 
the  circular  courtyard  below,  and  examine  the  doors 
and  the  windows  w^iich  open  upon  the  great  hall. 
the  chapel,  and  the  dwelling  rooms,  which,  though 
empty  and  deserted,  have  not  suffered  otherwise  from 
time.  Altogether,  it  reminded  me  of  the  famous 
Colosseum  or  Amphitheatre  of  Rome,  into  which  the 


102  FIVE  DAYS'  ENTERTAINMENTS 


wild  animals  were  brought  from  dens  and  vaults  below, 
whilst  the  spectators  ;?at  to  view  them  fight  from  the 
surrounding  galleri^'S."  ;,  ,%  ''"\ 

The  Page  eht'ered,"  With  fio'tice  that  the  horses  were 
brought  out..  The  Princess,  turning  to  her  uncle,  pro- 
posed that  they  should  ride  up,  and  view  with  their 
own  eyes  the  sight  they  had  been  speaking  of  "  Not 
yet,"  said  he  :  "  Let  us  wait  the  return  of  the  Prince 
for  such  an  expedition." 

"  Then  let  us  ride  at  least  upwards,  were  it  only 
to  the  foot :  I  have  the  greatest  wish  to-day  to  look 
about  me  far  into  the  world." 

''  As  you  will,"  replied  the  Count. 

"  Let  us  ride  through  the  town,  however,"  continued 
the  lady,  "  through  the  great  market-place,  where  they 
are  now  holding  the  summer  fair.  It  gives  me  the 
greatest  pleasure  to  thread  my  way  slowly  through 
the  innumerable  crowd  of  booths,  and  to  see  all  the 
trades  and  occupations,  which  are  usually  carried  on 
within-doors,  exposed  now,  as  it  were,  to  broad  day- 
light." 

The  Princess  hastened  to  mount  her  favourite  horse, 
and  the  Count  was  presently  at  her  side.  As  was  to 
be  expected,  they  could  only  advance  through  the 
market  step  by  step  :  the  crowd  so  pressed  about  the 
riders.  By  degrees,  however,  they  reached  a  clear 
space,  which  led  out  to  the  suburbs ;  there,  at  the  end 
of  many  small  booths  and  stands,  a  larger  building  of 


THE  UNCAGED  LION  IO3 

boards  showed  itself.  Loud  bellowings  proceeded 
from  the  interior.  The  feeding-hour  of  the  beasts 
exhibited  there  had  come  :  the  lion  was  very  hungry, 
and  let  his  wild  voice  be  heard  to  the  best  of  his 
power.  The  horses  shuddered,  and  could  hardly  be 
held  in  ;  they  had  never  seen  a  lion,  it  is  true,  but 
they  all  knew  quite  well  what  that  dreadful  roar 
meant.  As  our  friends  passed  the  booth,  they  were 
struck  by  the  great  pictures  stretched  Avithout  it. 
The  grim,  tawny  tiger  was  drawn  pouncing  on  a 
negro,  and  on  the  point  of  tearing  him  to  little  pieces ; 
a  lion  stood  by,  calmly,  as  if  he  saw  no  prey  worthy 
of  him  ;  and  other  wonderful  parti-coloured  creatures 
were  scattered  around. 

"  As  we  come  back,"  said  the  Princess,  "  we  will 
take  a  nearer  view  of  these  gentry." 

And  so  they  rode  onwards,  till  the  old  castle  they 
were  seeking  rose  full  in  their  view.  Over  a  stony 
flat  the  mighty  ruin  stood  fronting  them.  Great 
rocks,  jutting  out,  seemed  firmly  clenched  and  bound 
together  below  ;  above  these  rested  the  massy  stones 
of  the  foundation :  and  so  the  whole  mass  towered 
upwards,  frowning  down  on  them  as  if  to  forbid  any 
attempt  to  scale  it.  But  the  steep  and  the  difficult  is 
only  an  invitation  to  youth.  The  Princess  expressed 
her  wish  to  try  :  the  Count  was  ready  to  show  that 
his  strength  w^as  undiminished  :  and  the  climbers  soon 
reached    a   certain   point,  where   a   huge   projecting 


I04  FIVE  DAYS'  ENTERTAINMENTS 


point  afforded  standing-room  ;  and  a  vast  prospect, 
as  they  turned  round  to  gaze,  unfolded  itself  beneath 
them. 

Everything  came  out  clear  in  the  great  sunlight. 
The  Prince's  castle  lay  full  in  view :  they  could  look 
with  ease  into  the  town,  and  by  the  aid  of  a  glass 
distinguish  the  booths  in  the  market-place.  But  no 
sound  reached  them. 

*'  I  have  often  noticed  this  stillness  at  noon,"  said 
the  Princess.  "  It  seems  as  if  now,  just  as  at  mid- 
night, the  whole  world  was  sleeping." 

Suddenly,  the  Count,  who  was  looking  steadily 
through  the  glass,  started  up,  exclaiming,  "  Fire ! 
Fire  !     Look  !  there  is  fire  in  the  market-place  ! " 

It  was  so.  Puffs  of  smoke  at  first  rose,  though  the 
flames  were  smothered  in  the  daylight.  But  presently 
it  spread :  the  smoke  mounted  aloft,  and  from  time  to 
time  a  red  burst  of  light  could  be  seen.  The  Princess 
and  her  uncle  looked  at  each  other,  and  without  a 
word,  rapidly  descending  from  the  rock,  they  mounted 
their  horses,  and  proceeded  at  as  quick  a  pace  as  they 
could  master,  across  the  stony  flat  towards  the  scene 
of  mischief. 

As  they  went,  every  moment  the  glow  increased. 
The  booths,  lightly  built,  could  give  no  resistance 
to  the  flame.  The  planks  cracked,  the  laths  crackled  ; 
the  canvas  flew  abroad,  and  its  dusky  tatters  whirled 
themselves  round  and  aloft,  as  if  mischievous  fairies 


THE  UNCACED  lion  IO5 


suddenly  let  loose  were  capriciously  (lancin<^  in  the 
air.  No  living  creature,  however,  met  their  eyes  :  the 
inhabitants  were  all  busily  employed  in  endeavouring 
to  save  their  property. 

But  now,  in  a  thicket  on  the  right-hand  of  the 
road,  the  Princess  suddenly  perceived  something 
strange — which  she  presently  recognized  to  be  the 
lion,  standing  as  he  had  been  painted.  Springing 
up,  he  leisurely  bounded  towards  them. 

"  Fly  !     Fly  !  "  cried  the  Count. 

She  turned  her  horse  towards  the  steep  hill  they 
had  descended.  Frederic,  rushing  on  towards  the 
monster,  drew  his  pistol,  and  fired  when  he  thought 
himself  near  enough,  but  without  effect.  The  lion 
sprang  aside,  the  horse  faltered,  and  the  wild  beast 
followed  his  course  straight  after  the  Princess.  She 
galloped  up  the  steep  stony  space :  the  lion  was 
approaching,  though  not  with  vehement  speed :  only 
the  Count  riding  after  him  appeared  to  excite  and 
urge  him  on  anew.  Seeing  this,  the  Princess  turned 
her  horse  quickly  to  one  side :  he  stumbled  on  the 
loose  gravel,  and  fell.  She  gave  herself  up  for  lost : 
but  at  that  instant  Frederic  fired  his  remaining  pistol. 
Though  aimed  with  no  better  effect  than  the  first, 
it  was  so  far  successful  that  it  urged  the  lion,  as  much 
terrified  as  terrifying,  to  pursue  his  flight  rapidly  up 
the  steep  towards  the  castle,  without  turning  aside  to 
injure  the  Princess. 


I06  FIVE  DAYS'  ENTERTAINMENTS 


Thus  she  was  saved.  Before  her  uncle  reached  the 
spot,  she  had  cleverly  regained  her  feet;  and  both 
now  proposed  to  ride  at  once  to  the  Prince's  castle, 
and  seek  for  aid  from  the  huntsmen  to  prevent  further 
mischief;  for  as  the  lion  was  still  free  and  uninjured, 
no  one  could  guess  what  he  might  not  try  next. 

As  they  went,  they  looked  towards  the  town.  The 
rage  of  the  fire,  which  had  fortunately  not  extended 
to  the  houses  around  the  market-place,  had  spent 
itself:  but  only  a  few  blackened  poles, with  smoulder- 
ing heaps  of  timber-work  below,  remained  to  point 
out  where  the  fair  had  been.  But  their  eyes  were 
presently  turned  to  a  strange  pair  apparently  ad- 
vancing to  meet  them.  Up  the  road  came  a  woman, 
with  a  boy  who  held  a  small  flute  in  his  hand.  From 
their  dress,  which  was  cleanly  and  decent,  yet  strange 
and  of  many  colours,  the  Princess  at  once  conjectured 
that  they  must  be  the  owners  of  the  menagerie  or 
show  whence  the  lion  had  made  his  escape. 

"  Where  is  he  }  Where  is  he  } "  the  woman  cried 
with  passionate  grief.  Then,  without  awaiting  an 
answer,  she  knelt  down  and  pressed  the  palms  of  her 
hands  together.  "They  have  murdered  thee,  poor 
beast ! — murdered  thee  without  need.  Thou  wert  tame, 
and  wouldst  have  lain  down  at  rest  and  waited  our 
coming.  Thou  Avert  the  most  beautiful  of  all  thy 
kind :  how  long  have  we  gone  with  thee  on  thy 
journeys  :    how   long   hast    thou    been    faithful    and 


THE  UNCAGED  LION  lOJ 


useful  to  us  !  To  us,  of  very  truth,  meat  came  from 
the  eater,  and  sweetness  came  from  the  strong.  So 
will  it  be  no  more.     Woe !    Woe  !  " 

The  Princess,  struck  with  surprize  at  the  strangeness 
of  the  woman's  speech,  was  unable  to  answer  her, 
when,  over  the  road  they  had  left,  riders  came  rushing 
down.  It  was  the  hunting-train,  led  on  by  the  Prince, 
who,  while  following  their  sport,  had  perceived  the 
sudden  columns  of  distant  smoke,  and  were  hastening 
towards  the  fire.  And  they  now  stood  in  wonder  at 
the  Princess  and  those  about  her,  when  a  man  pressed 
forward  into  the  circle  :  large  of  stature,  and  strangely 
dressed. 

*'  This  is  no  time  for  lamenting,"  he  said ;  "  the 
lion  is  loose,  my  lord  :  he  has  gone  towards  the  moun- 
tains :  but  spare  him,  have  mercy  on  him  ! " 

"  The  lion  !  "  said  the  Prince.  *'  We  will  spare  him 
if  we  can ;  but  he  cannot  at  least  be  left  free.  Why 
were  you  so  thoughtless  as  to  let  him  loose  .-^ " 

**  The  fire  broke  out,"  replied  he :  "  we  kept  quiet 
and  attentive ;  but  a  heap  of  powder  blew  up,  and  the 
brands  fell  on  the  booth,  so  we  had  to  escape  for  our 
lives." 

One  of  the  huntsmen  now  came  hastily  down  from 
the  castle  rock,  and  made  it  known  that  the  lion  had 
found  his  w^ay  within  the  great  tower  by  means  of  the 
lower  vaults,  and  had  lain  himself  down  to  sleep  in 
the  empty  courtyard  space. 


I08  FIVE  DA  YS'  ENTERTAINMENTS 

"What  surety  can  you  give,"  said  the  Prince, 
turning  to  the  man,  ''that,  if  we  spare  your  lion,  he 
will  not  work  injury  amongst  us  ? " 

"  This  woman  and  child,"  answered  the  father, 
"  engage  to  tame  him — to  keep  him  at  peace,  till  I 
bring  up  the  cage  ;  and  then  we  can  carry  him  back 
unharmed  and  without  harming  any  one." 

The  boy  put  the  flute  to  his  lips  :  sweet,  low  tones 
breathed  from  it. 

"  Secure  the  vaulted  entrance,"  said  the  Prince 
to  Frederic  ;  "  you,  who  caused  it  to  be  made,  know 
it  best :  keep  your  rifles  ready,  but  do  not  shoot 
unless  the  creature  can  be  driven  back  no  other- 
wise. The  man  and  woman  will  take  charge  of  the 
rest." 

The  child  continued  his  tune — which  was  no  tune  : 
rather,  a  series  of  notes  without  law  ;  and  perhaps 
on  that  account  the  more  touching.  Meanwhile  the 
father — with  a  firm,  noble  voice  and  bearing — began 
to  speak  in  this  manner : — 

"God  has  given  to  the  beasts  of  the  field  wisdom, 
each  after  his  kind :  and  He  has  set  them  on  the 
earth,  their  habitation.  Consider  the  ant :  she  knows 
her  way,  and  loses  it  not  ;  she  builds  her  dwelling  of 
the  dust,  and  through  the  winter  she  abides  therein. 
Consider  the  horse :  he  is  carried  by  the  wind  over 
the  desert ;  he  snorts,  and  cannot  rest  ;  yet  is  he 
bridled    by    man,    and    obeys    his    command.      But 


THE  UNCAGED  LION  109 

in  the  forest  of  palms  arose  the  lion :  lie  marches 
through  the  wilderness  ;  there  he  rules  over  all  crea- 
tures ;  and  his  might  who  can  withstand  ?  Yet  man 
can  tame  him  :  he  reverences  him  who  was  made  in 
the  image  of  the  Highest  :  he  bows  himself  down : 
he  is  afraid  before  Daniel,  even  in  the  midst  of  the 
den  of  Babylon." 

This  speech  the  child  accompanied  here  and  there 
with  graceful  tones  ;  but  now  the  Count,  by  a  shout 
from  above,  gave  signal  that  all  was  prepared.  The 
man  hastened  downwards  to  the  town.  The  Prince 
led  the  way  upward,  and  conducting  his  wife  and  the 
hunting-party  to  the  winding  stair,  presently  appeared 
on  the  summit.  The  mother  led  her  child  to  the 
entrance  of  the  vault,  where  Frederic  was  keeping 
watch,  and  bade  him  proceed  without  fearing  within 
it.  "  Fear  not,"  she  said  to  the  Count,  ''the  aid  of  vio- 
lence will  not  be  necessary  ;  others  will  do  the  work." 

Meanwhile,  to  the  party  stationed  above,  the  pause 
was  almost  frightful.  At  last  the  flute  was  heard  ; 
the  child  stept  forth  from  the  cavern  with  bright 
eyes.  He  sounded  his  flute ;  the  mighty  beast,  who 
was  lying  in  quiet  in  one  corner  of  the  courtyard, 
raised  himself  at  the  notes  ;  the  boy  led  him  in  a  half 
circle  to  the  entrance  of  the  vaults,  and  at  length,  on 
a  spot  where  the  last  rays  of  the  sun  poured  in 
through  a  ruined  window-casement,  he  sat  down, 
glowing  and  beautiful  in  the  ruddy  light. 


I  lO  FIVE  DA  YS'  ENTERTAINMENTS 

The  lion  laid  itself  down  close  to  the  child,  and 
lifted  its  heavy  right  fore-paw  into  his  bosom  ;  the 
boy  as  he  sung  stroked  it,  and  was  not  long  in 
observing  that  a  sharp  thorn  had  fixed  itself  in 
the  foot.  He  carefully  pulled  it  out,  and  with  a 
smile,  taking  the  silk  handkerchief  from  his  neck, 
bound  up  the  paw  of  the  monster.  The  Princess  for 
joy  bent  over  the  depth  below  with  outstretched 
arms,  and  would  perhaps  have  shouted  and  clapped 
applause,  had  not  her  husband's  arm,  laid  firmly 
upon  her's,  reminded  her  that  the  danger  w^as  not  yet 
over. 

Triumphantly  the  child  sang  on  ;  and  were  it 
possible  to  fancy  that  the  countenance  of  so  grim 
a  creature,  the  tyrant  of  the  forest,  could  mould  itself 
to  the  expression  of  friendliness  and  thankful  con- 
tentment, such  a  look  was  now  traceable  on  it.  And 
truly  the  child,  as  he  stood  and  sang  in  the  sunbeam, 
had  the  air  as  of  a  mighty  triumphant  conqueror. 
But  the  lion,  stretched  quietly  there,  looked  not 
indeed  as  if  conquered, — for  his  strength  lay  con- 
cealed in  him :  but  rather  like  one  tamed  and 
given  up  to  his  own  peaceful  will,  to  the  all-sub- 
duing charm  of  song  and  the  irresistible  might  of 
gentleness. 

Charles'  tale  had  a  sobering  effect ;  there  was  no 
doubt  of  its  being  the  best  they  had  yet  heard.     He 


THE  UNCACkD  LION 


III 


said,  he  only  wished  it  were  his  own,  but  it  was  due 
to  the  great  German  poet,  Goethe  ;  and  he  trusted, 
that  if  that  great  man  could  know  of  it  (which  he 
could  not,  however,  as  he  was  dead — at  which  the 
children  looked  sorry),  he  would  not  disapprove  of 
the  use  to  which  it  had  been  put.  Without  any  hint 
given,  Anna  and  Arthur  repeated  their  duet  ;  and 
the  little  company  went  their  ways  for  the  present 
subdued  and  quieted. 


END   OF    THE   SECOND   DAY 


I  I  2  FIVE  DA  KS"  ENTERTAINMENTS 


THIRD    DAY 


Many  a  dish  and  many  a  guest : 
Each  may  take  what  likes  him  best. 


The  rain  still  continued,  and  the  stones  with  it. 

"■  No  music  to-day  ! "  cried  the  children,  as  they 
entered  the  drawing-room,  and  saw  that  the  piano- 
forte had  its  great  leathern  coat  on,  and  looked,  as 
they  said,  *'  so  snug  and  comfortable." 

"  Not  to-day,"  said  Lucy  Wentworth  ;  "  and,  for 
my  part,  I  am  not  very  sorry  for  it ;  for  I  do  not  care 
for  music ;  and  mamma  says  I  am  like  a  little  post, 
with  no  ears.  But  there  is  something  better  coming 
— something  so  nice.  I  know  what.  I  heard  mamma 
order  it,"  she  added,  looking  mysterious. 

"  What  is  it  ? — what  is  it }  "  cried  out  the  younger 
ones. 

"You  will  soon  see,"  said  Mrs.  Wentworth,  smiling; 
*'  meanwhile,  listen  to  what  Charles  has  to  tell  you, 
and  be  sure  you  do  not  forget  it." 


THE  GREEDY  BEAR  1  I 


CHARLES'  THIRD   TALE 


THE  GREEDY   BEAR 


There  was  a  certain  Brown  Bear,  who  lived  in  a 
forest.  All  his  brothers  and  sisters  were  very  respec- 
table bears,  who  kept  their  coats  clean  and  bright, 
tore  their  food  in  pieces  cleverly  with  their  claws 
without  putting  their  mouths  into  it,  and  were  so 
moderate  in  their  appetites  that  they  would  sleep  all 
the  winter  long,  rolled  up  in  the  snow,  at  the  foot 
of  a  tree,  without  so  much  as  dreaming  of  dinner. 
But  this  Brown  Bear  had  always  been  unlike  the 
rest.  Even  when  he  was  quite  young  and  pretty,  he 
would  quarrel  with  his  brothers  and  sisters  over  their 
breakfast  in  the  nursery  ;  he  always  wanted  the  pieces 
with  the  great  lumps  of  fat  on  them,  this  funny  Brown 
Bear ;  and  if  they  did  not  give  him  what  he  fancied, 
he  would  hug  them  in  his  paws  till  they  screamed,  or 
he  would  cry  and  scream  himself  till  they  gave  him 
what  he  wished  for,  and  begged  him  not  to  make 
himself  so  disagreeable.  Do  not  do  like  the  little 
Brown  Bear,  my  darlings,  and  get  nice  things  by 
making  yourselves  nasty. 

When  he  grew  older,  his  greediness  increased.  He 
I 


1 14  FIVE  DA  YS'  ENTERTAINMENTS 


would  climb  up  a  hollow  tree,  where  he  had  seen  the 
bees  flying  in  and  out,  and  would  pull  down  the  hive 
about  his  ears,  shutting  his  eyes  and  mouth,  so  that 
the  bees  could  not  sting  him — because,  you  know,  he 
had  his  bearskin  coat  on  ;  and  then  he  would  sit 
down  on  his  hind-legs  and  tail  and  eat  the  honey- 
comb at  his  leisure,  without  giving  a  crumb  of  it  to 
anybody  else.  He  would  make  friends  with  the  wild 
dogs  and  wolves  in  the  forest,  and  call  himself  their 
cousin,  because  he  w^as  shaggy  and  they  were  shaggy 
too.  And  when  they  had  brought  him  the  game 
they  had  managed  to  catch,  instead  of  thanking  them 
he  would  first  eat  it  up,  and  then  the  dc^s  and  wolves 
after  it.  He  would  lie  down  and  pretend  to  be  asleep; 
and  when  the  w^ood-pigeons,  and  merles,  and  other, 
birds  came  and  settled  about  him,  he  would  cleverly 
stretch  out  a  paw^  and  catch  one  before  it  could  fly 
away  ;  for  nothing  w^as  too  little  or  too  great  for  his 
mouth.  Indeed,  it  was  said  he  would  often  look 
up  at  the  moon,  which  he  took  for  a  great  honey- 
comb, because  it  w^as  so  yellow  (as  everybody  sees 
what  they  wish  for  in  things  that  are  at  a  distance 
from  them),  and  stamp  and  howl  for  it.  And  once  he 
climbed  up  to  the  top  of  a  very  tall  tree  to  try  to 
catch  the  moon  when  it  was  full ;  but  he  found  it  just 
too  far  off  for  him  to  get  at. 

There  was  another  thing  also  which  my  Bear  had 
never  eaten,  although  he  knew  that  it  was  thought 


THE  GREED  Y  BEAR  1 1  5 


a  special  delicacy  by  the  wicked  white  bears  who  live 
near  the  North  l^ole.  For  the  wood  he  lived  in  was 
so  wild,  that  no  merchant,  or  even  wandering  traveller, 
ever  passed  that  way.  If  he  had,  the  greedy  Brown 
Bear  would  not  have  lost  the  opportunity  of  tasting 
him. 

At  last,  one  day,  a  Fairy  who  lived  in  the  forest, 
and  saw  how  all  the  wild  creatures  were  going  on, 
became  very  angry  with  our  friend  the  Brown  Bear, 
and  determined  to  punish  him  for  his  greediness, 
though  not  without  giving  him  a  chance  to  repent  of 
it ;  because  even  Brown  Bears  should  have  the  chance 
of  growing  better.  So,  turning  himself  into  the  shape 
of  a  travelling  negro,  he  wandered  along  as  if  he  had 
lost  his  way,  till  he  came  to  the  bear's  cavern.  Out 
ran  the  Bear  with  a  loud  howl,  and  setting  upon  the 
traveller,  soon  pulled  him  to  the  ground.  The  man 
begged  hard  for  his  life,  and  told  the  Bear  what  a 
cruel  and  savage  thing  it  was  for  him  to  destroy  and 
eat  a  poor  man,  such  as  he  was,  travelling  through 
the  wood  without  hurting  any  one  ;  adding,  that 
nature  had  provided  plenty  of  lesser  animals,  not  to 
speak  of  fruits  and  honey,  for  him  to  feed  on.  But 
the  Bear  made  him  a  good  set  speech. 

"  No  creature  can  be  called  cruel  but  that  which 
by  malice  extinguishes  his  natural  pity.  I  was  born 
without  compassion  for  Man  :  and  follow  the  law 
of  my  nature.     I  am  the  strongest,  and  shall  eat  you. 

I  2 


Il6  FIVE  DAYS'  ENTERTAINMENTS 

The  Eternal  Veracities  " — (I  daresay  he  meant  Vora- 
cities, but  you  see  what  happens  when  bears  or  men 
use  long  words  without  meaning  much  by  them) — '*  the 
Eternal  Veracities  are  on  my  side  !  It  is  only  Man 
who  changes.  Man  at  first  was  taught  to  feed  on 
nothing  but  vegetables.  But  your  violent  love  of 
change,  and  novelty,  have  led  you  to  destroy  animals 
without  right  or  necessity.  What  creature  have  you 
spared  to  satisfy  your  foolish  and  misdirected  appe- 
tite 1  I  am  told  you  eat  even  the  pretty  little  lambs 
who  frisk  in  the  meadows,  and  have  mint-sauce  with 
them.  As  for  my  appetite,  I  have  tried  to  change  it, 
but  in  vain!  Often  have  I  filled  myself  with  roots 
and  herbs,  but  to  no  purpose :  nothing  but  large 
quantities  of  flesh  can  in  any  way  satisfy  me. 
You  are  black  brother  Quashee,  of  whom  I  have 
heard  a  great  deal,  and  think  very  little :  I  am 
stronger  than  you,  and  can  growl  louder  and  longer : 
humphr 

"  Don't  take  so  much  trouble  about  it,"  said  the 
traveller,  and  fainted  straight  away  with  fear :  and  the 
Bear  immediately  made  his  dinner  on  him  with  the 
greatest  satisfaction. 

But  no  sooner  had  Dr.  Growler  finished  his  meal, 
when  by  the  power  of  the  Fairy,  who  had  fled  from  the 
body  of  the  negro  and  returned  to  his  proper  shape,  a 
wonderful  change  took  place  in  him.  He  suddenly 
found  himself  turned   into  the  form  and  fig-ure  of  a 


THE  GREEDY  HEAR 


1  I 


Man  :  nay  more,  in  place  of  a  Bear,  strange  to  say, 
he  was  now  a  King,  living  in  a  sumptuous  palace,  and 
surrounded  by  crowds  of  guards  and  courtiers.  His 
former  life  already  appeared  to  him  but  a  dream  of  the 
night  before  :  vv^hat  he  now  was.,  it  seemed  as  if  he 
had  always  been.  He  ordered  a  splendid  feast  to  be 
brought  up  ;  the   dishes   were  of  solid  gold,  and  the 


great  Lords  of  his  kingdom,  kneeling  each  on  one 
knee,  offered  them  to  him,  as  neatly  and  gracefully  as 
if  they  had  been  man-servants  all  their  lives. 


1 1 8  FIVE  DA  YS'  ENTERTAINMENTS 


The  Bear-king  had  never  tasted  anything  so  de- 
Hcious  before :  and  he  thought  that  all  the  fish,  flesh, 
and  fowl  in  creation  must  be  spread  before  him,  so 
numerous  were  the  dishes.  But  next  day  a  new  feast 
was  spread  :  and  so  it  went  on  day  by  day,  and  day 
by  day  his  old  greedy  nature  increased  and  gathered 
strength.  "  What  a  splendid  King  we  have,"  said  his 
subjects  :  *'  he  feasts  twice  every  day,  and  there  is 
no  good  thing  which  is  not  brought  before  him." 
And  some  of  them  called  him  King  Doublemeal  in 
consequence.  But  most  thought  the  better  of  him 
for  it,  and  called  him  a  Hero,  and  were  silly  enough 
almost  to  worship  him ;  for  vulgar  people  cannot  see 
a  strong  mind,  but  they  can  see  strong  muscles,  and 
always  think  the  most  of  them. 

But,  like  the  rich  man  in  the  parable,  the  King's 
pride  and  selfishness  grew  with  his  wealth  and  his 
opportunities  of  using  it.  He  would  have  driven 
Lazarus  from  his  table  :  and  though  the  poor  of  his 
kingdom  were  starving,  he  would  not  spare  a  crumb 
to  relieve  their  misery. 

Now,  when  the  Fairy,  who  had  transformed  the  Brown 
Bear  into  a  Man,  saw  this,  he  determined  he  would 
punish  him  for  his  wickedness.  But  he  thought  that 
he  would  first  give  the  King  a  chance  for  repentance. 
So  he  sought  out  the  most  beautiful  Princess  in  the 
country.  "  Would  you  be  Queen  of  all  the  land  ? " 
he  said  to   her.     "  Yes,"  said  she.     "  You  must  then 


THE  GREED  J '  BE  A  R  I  I  9 

<illo\v  yourself  for  a  while  to  be  changed  into  a  She- 
bear,"  replied  the  Fairy  :  "  I  promise  that  no  harm 
shall  happen  to  you  :  only,  ask  no  questions."  The 
Princess  thought  this  last  thing  very  hard,  but,  strange 
to  say,  she  agreed,  and  accordingly  the  Fairy,  who 
had  now  given  himself  the  appearance  of  an  old  man, 
led  her  with  him  to  the  King's  Court. 

The  King  was  holding  a  great  feast  at  the  moment. 
He  called  for  music ;  and  his  Page,  coming  up,  told 
him  that  outside  the  palace-gate  was  an  old  man 
with  a  flute,  leading  a  She-bear,  who  danced  to  his 
music,  which  was  the  most  wonderful  that  had  ever 
been  heard.  The  King  ordered  them  to  be  brought 
\\\  :  the  Fairy  breathed  on  his  flute ;  and  she  followed 
the  changes  and  movements  of  the  tune  so  skilfully 
that  Anna  would  have  thought  the  Bear  had  learnt 
dancing  oi  her  own  mistress. 

("  Don't  be  impertinent,"  said  Anna  ;  *'  Mademoiselle 
Entrechat  you  know  would  never  condescend  to  gi\e 
lessons  to  a  bear." 

"  Nor  to  a  boy  neither,  if  she  could  help  it,  I  am 
sure,"  said  Charles  ;  and  then  proceeded  :) 

The  King  and  his  courtiers  were  much  delighted  : 
but  when  the  old  musician,  leading  forward  the  Bear 
(at  which  the  King  was  aware  that  a  sort  of  hairy 
feeling  crept  all  over  him),  knelt  down  and  begged 
him  for  some  food,  saying  that  he  and  his  companion 
had  tasted  nothing  for  several  days, — the  King,  rising 


I  20  FIVE  DA  YS'  ENTERTAINMENTS 


up  from  his  throne,  in  a  rage,  ordered  the  guards 
to  drive  them  out  of  the  palace.  "  Shall  I  spend  my 
goods  on  these  beggars  ! "  said  he  :  but  the  King's 
Page,  who  was  shocked  at  his  master's  cruelty,  ran 
to  the  old  man,  and  privately  put  some  food  into  his 
hand.  The  musician  thanked  him  :  and  what  was 
his  surprise  when,  instead  of  the  Bear,  the  most  beau- 
tiful Maiden  he  had  ever  seen  reached  out  her  hand, 
and,  in  the  softest  tones,  said  that  she  would  remember 
his  kindness.     How  very  nice  for  that  young  Page ! 

The  King,  who  saw  this,  was  struck  with  grief  and 
fear  for  his  own  conduct  :  and  rushing  forward,  he 
tried  to  reach  ai>d  to  speak  to  the  beautiful  Maiden. 
But  she  and  the  Fairy,  quickly  passing  through  the 
crowd,  as  if  on  wings,  made  their  way  out  and 
disappeared. 

All  night  the  King  lay  awake,  thinking  of  the 
lovely  Princess,  and  wondering  how  he  could  find  her 
again  and  make  her  his  Queen.  And  as  he  was 
thinking  thus,  and  growing  sorr}'  for  what  he  had 
done,  the  door  gently  opened,  and  the  Maiden,  gliding 
in  without  a  sound,  came  up  to  his  bedside.  "  Fairest 
one  ! "  he  said — "  wilt  thou  be  my  Bride  .''  "  *'  Not 
yet,"  she  answered :  laying  down,  as  she  spoke,  three 
golden  apples  on  the  table  beside  him.  "  If  the  King 
can  fast  from  food  for  three  days,  and  refrain  himself 
from  touching  the  apples,  I  will  be  his  Queen."  And 
in  an  instant  she  disappeared  as  before. 


THE  CREl'lDY  BEAR  I  2  r 

When  morning  came,  the  Kin^^  would  have  thought 
it  all  a  dream  :  but  there  were  the  three  golden  apples 
on  a  plate,  and  one  of  them  on  the  edge  of  it,  just 
as  he  remembered  the  Princess  had  put  it  in  her 
hurry.  He  looked  at  them :  they  were  the  most 
beautiful  that  he  had  ever  seen,  and  their  smell 
was  sweeter  than  roses.  Nevertheless  for  a  whole 
day  he  reined  in  his  greediness,  and  left  them  un- 
touched. And  the  next  day  he  looked  at  them  again  : 
l)ut  still  he  left  them  untouched.  But  on  the  third 
day  he  could  resist  the  temptation  no  longer.  ''  After 
all,  I  shall  find  some  more  beautiful  Princess  for  my 
Queen,"  thought  he  :  and  so  thinking,  he  lifted  the 
first  apple  to  his  mouth.  It  was  so  sweet,  that  it  was 
only  two  bites  more  to  finish  them  all :  but  no  sooner 
had  he  eaten  the  apples,  than  a  deep  sleep  fell  upon 
him,  and  he  lay  down  as  if  dead. 

When  midnight  struck,  a  loud  noise  was  heard, 
which  startled  every  man  in  the  palace  from  his 
slumber.  The  guards  seized  their  arms:  and  the 
Page  ran  to  the  King's  room  to  see  that  no  harm  had 
befallen  his  master.  But  at  that  moment  the  King 
too  awoke  ;  and  the  Fairy,  in  his  proper  .shape,  entered 
the  room,  leading  in,  no  longer  the  fair  Princess,  but 
a  terrible  Bear,  who  without  an  instant's  delay  fell 
upon  the  King  and  began  to  tear  him. 

As  well  as  he  could,  the  King  defended  himself. 
But    his    strength    was   beginning    to    fail,  when    the 


I  2  2  FIVE  DA  KS"  ENTERTAINMENTS 


faithful  Page  entered  the  room.  Seeing  his  master  in 
such  danger,  he  instantly  levelled  his  lance,  and  drove 
it  through  the  heart  of  the  wild  beast. 

A  sharp  shriek  followed :  but  at  once  the  lance  fell 
from  his  hand  :  and  beside  him  again  stood  the 
Princess,  unharmed,  and  in  her  full  beauty. 

Before  he  could  recover  from  his  astonishment,  a 
loud  bellowing  was  heard  close  to  him.  He  found 
his  lance  once  more  in  his  hand,  he  knew  not 
how  :  and  turning  round,  he  was  just  able  to  defend 
himself  with  it  against  another  Bear,  which,  still 
carrying  a  crown  on  its  head,  rushed  furiously  at  him. 
It  was  the  King,  who  by  command  of  the  Fairy  had 
been  changed  back  to  his  former  shape.  "  Strike  him  ! 
Strike  him  ! ''  cried  the  Fairy.  The  Page  at  once 
pierced  him  to  the  heart,  and  he  fell  dead  at  their  feet. 

The  Page  now  learned  the  meaning  of  what  had 
happened  :  the  dead  King  was  hastily  buried  in  the 
Abbey  :  and  the  Princess,  by  command  of  the  Fairy, 
giving  her  hand  in  marriage  to  the  faithful  and  chari- 
table Page,  he  was  made  King  of  the  land,  and 
reigned  long  and  happily  over  his  subjects. 

"  When  I  was  at  the  Zoological  Gardens  last 
Christmas,"  said  one  of  the  younger  children,  "  I  saw 
the  bears  ;  and  one  of  them  climbed  up  a  great  pole, 
and  held  out  his  nose  at  me.  O  how  I  wish  I  had 
given    him    something  to  eat ! "     "  But  I  did,"   said 


SELIM  AND  ABDALLAH  I  23 

another  little  one,  *'  and  he  opened  his  niouth  and  ate 
the  bun  up  :  but  he  did  not  thank  me  for  it."  "  Never 
mind,"  said  Charles  ;  *•  I  daresay  he  thought  *  Thank 
you,'  and  wished  himself  a  Princess  for  your  sake." 

"  Hush  ! "  cried  Anna,  who  had  now  taken  her 
place  :  **  really,  with  )-our  noise  )'ou  children  are  quite 
unbearable." 

"  A  pun — a  pun  !  a  bad  pun  ! "  whispered  Arthur  : 
but  Anna,  smiling  at  him,  began  her  story. 


ANNA'S     THIRD     TALE 

SELIM   AND   ABDALLAH 

Once  upon  a  time  there  was  a  certain  nobleman, 
who  dwelt  in  the  city  of  Ispahan,  the  capital  of 
Persia.  He  was  very  wealthy,  and  after  the  King's 
own,  his  palace  was  the  most  beautiful  in  the  city. 
The  roofs  were  held  up  by  pillars  of  black  polished 
marble  ;  the  walls  shone  with  gold  and  painted  tiles  ; 
and  the  floors  were  paved  with  little  pieces  of  glass 
set  in  all  manner  of  patterns,  over  which  the  richest 
carpets  of  cashmere  were  spread,  like  flowers  upon 
flowers.  But  he  was  unmarried,  and  had  no  children 
to  enjoy  his  great  riches  after  him. 

This  nobleman  had  many  followers  and  servants, 
and  his  court  was  almost  as  much  crowded  as  the 
Khalif's.    Over  all  was  set  the  Keeper  of  his  treasures 


I  24  FIVE  DA  YS'  ENTERTAINMENTS 

Selim.  This  Selim  was  a  very  crafty,  wicked  man  : 
but  he  had  one  only  daughter,  Fatima,  who  was' more 
beautiful  than  the  moo-  ,  or  than  her  famous  name- 
sake, the  wife  of  the  prophet  Mohammed.  She  was 
very  unlike  her  father  in  disposition,  and  was  so 
gentle  and  good  that  every  one  loved  her.  Selim  for 
a  long  while  plotted  to  bring  about  a  marriage  between 
the  nobleman  and  his  daughter :  but  the  nobleman 
had  taken  a  vow  to  live  and  die  childless  :  and  it 
was  said  that  he  would  leave  his  wealth  to  the  great 
Mosque  of  Bagdat.  When  Selim  discovered  this,  he 
was  much  enraged  at  his  master,  and  in  the  wicked- 
ness of  his  heart  he  determined  to  avenge  himself  on 
him  in  any  way  that  he  could. 

It  was  said  that  there  was  no  one  more  learned  in 
the  whole  city  than  this  nobleman.  Twice  in  every 
week  he  used  to  call  the  wise  men  around  him, 
with  those  who  studied  religion  and  law  ;  and,  sitting 
ranged  in  their  several  ranks  in  his  presence,  they 
used  to  consider  and  to  discuss  high  and  knotty 
questions.  Now,  one  da}',  while  he  was  sitting  with 
them,  there  came  into  the  assembl}^  a  stranger,  clad 
in  tattered  clothing,  who  seated  himself  behind  the 
rest  in  a  distant  place.  And  when  they  began  the 
discussion — for  it  was  the  custom  to  propose  questions 
to  the  different  members,  that  by  their  answers  they 
might  show  their  wisdom, — the  question  was  put  to 
them  by  turns,  till  it  came  to  the  stranger  :  whereupon 


SELIM  AXD  ABDAIJ.AH  I  25 

he  gave  a  better  reply  than  the  rcpHes  of  all  present : 
And  the  nobleman  approved  it,  and  ordered  that  he 
should  be  raised  from  the  /lace  which  he  had  taken 
to  a  higher  one.  Then  when  the  second  question 
came  to  him,  he  gave  a  reply  better  than  the  first  : 
and  the  nobleman  ordered  that  he  should  be  raised 
to  a  place  of  higher  honour.  And  when  the  third 
question  went  round,  he  gave  a  reply  better  and  more 
just  than  the  two  former  replies  :  upon  which  the 
nobleman  ordered  that  he  should  be  placed  in  his 
own  seat,  above  every  one  who  was  present. 

The  wise  men  then  rose  and  went  forth  :  but  the 
nobleman  prevented  the  stranger  from  going  out 
with  them  :  he  called  him  into  an  inner  room,  and 
treated  him  with  kindness.  And  after  this  the  feast 
was  prepared  :  the  wine  was  brought  forth,  and 
carried  round  to  the  guests.  But  when  it  came  round 
to  the  stranger,  he  rose  up,  and  said,  "  If  the  master 
of  the  house  give  Abdallah  permission,  he  will  speak 
one  word."  And  when  the  nobleman  permitted  him, 
he  said,  "  The  master  of  the  house  knows  that  I  was 
to-day,  in  this  noble  assembly,  one  of  the  least  known 
of  the  people  ;  and  that  he  has  raised  me  to  a  place 
near  himself,  and  has  lifted  me  up  above  the  others. 
And  now  he  desires  to  take  from  me  that  small 
degree  of  wisdom  which  has  exalted  me  above  my 
meanness.  For  if  his  slave  drink  wine,  wisdom  will 
go  from  him,  and  folly  will  draw  near  unto  him,  and 


1 26  FIVE  DA  KS"  ENTERTAINMENTS 


he  will  return  to  his  former  place,  and  become  mean 
and  worthless  in  the  eyes  of  men.  Abdallah  trusts, 
therefore,  that  the  wise  man,  the  master  of  the  house, 
will  not  rob  his  slave  of  this  jewel." 

When  the  nobleman  heard  these  words  he  praised 
him,  and  caused  him  to  sit  again  in  his  place.  When 
Selim  saw  it,  anger  took  possession  of  his  heart,  and 
jealousy  that  Abdallah  should  have  been  raised  to 
such  honour  ;  and  he  plotted  to  do  him  an  injury. 

But  before  the  feast  was  ended,  the  nobleman 
ordered  that  a  cup  of  sherbet  (which  is  a  kind  of 
drink  that  Lucy  would  like,  because  it  has  plenty  of 
sugar  in  it)  should  be  brought  round  to  each  of  the 
guests  ;  and  they  brought  it  to  Selim  first,  and  to 
Abdallah  after  him.  And  when  Abdallah  tasted  it, 
he  cried  out  to  the  nobleman,  "  There  is  poison  in 
the  cup!"  and  Abdallah  saw  Selim  turn  pale  where 
he  sat.  But  the  nobleman  did  not  see  it,  and  he 
ordered  his  chief  physician  to  be  brought  in.  When 
the  chief  physician  tasted  the  cup,  he  also  said  that 
it  was  poisoned.  But  no  one  knew  who  it  was  that 
had  done  this  wicked  thing. 

Upon  this,  the  nobleman,  seeing  the  wisdom  of 
Abdallah,  appointed  him  to  be  his  chamberlain. 
Every  night  he  guarded  him  as  he  slept ;  and  every 
day  he  tasted  the  dishes  as  they  were  brought  up,  as 
is  the  custom  in  Persia. 

But  no  one  thought  of  the  wicked  Treasurer,  though 


SELIM  AND  ABD ALLAH  I  2  7 


it  was  he  in  truth  who  had  mingled  poison  in  the 
sherbet  :  and  every  day  his  anger  increased  against 
his  master  and  against  Abdallah,  for  his  wisdom  was 
so  great  that  daily  he  grew  in  favour  with  the  noble- 
man and  with  all  who  saw  him  :  and  at  last  it  so 
happened  that  F'atima  his  daughter  could  not  conceal 
the  love  that  she  bore  Abdallah,  for  she  had  seen 
none  who  equalled  him  in  goodness.  But  Selim  for 
a  while  hid  his  anger  in  his  bosom,  and  waited  till 
he  should  see  some  fault,  that  so  he  might  cause  his 
ruin. 

One  day  it  chanced  that  Selim  stood  behind  a 
screen  in  the  great  hall,  where  the  nobleman  sat  and 
did  justice  between  his  servants  ;  and  Abdallah  came 
in,  and  knowing  not  that  Selim  was  there,  he  threw 
himself  at  his  master's  feet,  crying  out, 

"A  favour,  my  lord  ;  a  favour  for  thy  servant !" 

The  nobleman  inquired  what  was  his  desire. 

"  Let  your  Highness  know,"  said  Abdallah,  "  that 
your  slave  loves  Fatima,  the  daughter  of  the  Keeper 
of  the  Treasures,  and  he  begs  you  to  speak  to  her 
father,  and  to  command  him  that  he  give  me  his 
daughter  in  marriage,  for  this  also  is  the  desire  of  the 
heart  of  Fatima." 

The  nobleman  bade  him  rise,  and  promised  that  he 
would  at  once  ask  that  Fatima  should  be  given  him ; 
for  there  was  no  one  of  all  his  friends  wliom  he  valued 
more  than  Abdallah. 


I  28  FIVE  DA  KS"  ENTERTAINMENTS 


But  when  he  had  gone  forth,  Sehm  came  into  his 
master's  presence.  His  heart  beat  with  rage  ;  but  he 
hid  it,  from  fear,  lest  otherwise  he  might  fail  in  his 
purpose. 

''  Was  it  not  Abdallah,"  said  he,  "  who  went  forth 
from  thy  presence .''" 

The  nobleman  said,  "  It  was  ;  and  what  of  that  ?" 

"Oh,  nothing,  nothing!"  replied  Selim  ;  "only  I 
thought — indeed,  I  hardly  know  what  I  thought." 

"  What  is  it  i' — let  the  truth  be  spoken,"  said  the 
nobleman,  in  great  astonishment. 

'*  The  truth  shall  be  spoken,  in  its  own  time  and 
season,"  said  Selim.  "  But  is  it  not  strange,"  continued 
he,  "  that  Abdallah  should  never  have  made  it  known 
to  your  Highness  who  that  wicked  one  might  be  who 
mingled  poison  in  the  cup  on  the  day  of  the  feast  V 

"  He  has  searched  far  and  wide,  but  he  can  discover 
nothing,"  said  the  nobleman. 

"  Your  wisdom  knows  best,"  said  Selim.  "  The 
prophet  is  my  witness  with  what  grief  I  speak  it ; 
but  did  not  your  Highness  perceive,  on  that  first  day, 
how  Abdallah  would  not  drink  the  wine  that  the  cup- 
bearers brought  him  }  And  when  the  sherbet  was 
poured  out,  I  saw  his  countenance,  and  it  was  paler 
than  snow." 

"  What  is  it  then  that  the  Treasurer  thinks  V  said 
the  nobleman,  grieved  and  alarmed  ;  for  he  did  not 
suspect  Selim's  wickedness. 


SELIM  AND  A  BD  ALL  AH  I  29 

"  Your  slave  remembers  what  the  cupbearer  told 
him  ;  for  he  is  ready  to  declare  before  witnesses  that 
Abdallah  knows  who  it  was  that  mingled  poison  in 
the  goblet." 

**  Who  is  he?  and  what  is  his  name?"  cried  the 
nobleman.  *'  But  the  Treasurer  is  fearful ;  for  if  it 
were  Abdallah  who  contrived  this  great  crime — which 
Allah  forbid  ! — would  he  himself  have  warned  us  of 
his  own  wickedness  ?" 

"  Allah  only  reads  the  heart  of  man,  and  those  only 
find  who  know  where  to  seek,"  an.swered  Selim,  dryly  ; 
"  to  the  poor  man  the  gifts  and  honours  of  the  rich 
are  above  life  itself" 

The  nobleman  was  astonished,  and  Selim,  as  he  did 
not  answer,  continued,  that  if  he  w^ere  in  his  lord's 
place,  he  would  desire  to  see  the  wisdom  and  dis- 
cernment of  Abdallah  tried,  before  further  confidence 
should  be  placed  in  him  ;  for  he  trusted  his  life  in  his 
hands,  both  at  night,  and  daily,  when  the  feast  was 
spread  before  him.  But  Selim's  hope  was,  that  Ab- 
dallah might  fail  in  the  trial,  and  be  cast  out  from  the 
palace,  and  receive  disgrace  and  punishment  from  his 
master. 

The  nobleman  agreed  to  the  proposal  of  Selim 
inwardly  making  up  his  mind,  that  if  Abdallah  did  not 
fail,  he  would  then  cause  Fatima  to  be  given  him  in 
marriage.  He  called  together  his  friends  and  servants, 
and  fixed  a  day  on  which  he  would  try  their  skill  :  and 

K 


I  30  FIVE  DA  YS'  ENTERTAINMENTS 


he  who  decided  truly  was  to  obtain  whatever  he  chose 
to  ask  from  the  nobleman.  And  the  trial  was  this  : — 
a  cup  was  to  be  given  to  each  to  taste,  and  they  were  to 
say  what  had  been  mingled  with  the  water.  Such  trials 
are  common  in  Persia ;  and  Abdallah,  out  of  love  for 
Fatima,  was  willing  to  show  himself,  if  so  it  might  be, 
worthy  of  her,  and  of  the  post  of  honour  in  which 
the  nobleman  had  placed  him. 

When  the  day  came,  a  sumptuous  feast  was  spread 
in  the  great  hall  of  the  palace.  Many  little  tables 
were  laid  out,  one  for  each  guest  ;  and  on  each  table 
was  set  some  one  dish  of  great  excellence  and  rarity, 
or  some  strange  and  costly  wine.  Before  Selim  was 
placed  a  plate  of  the  honey-dates  of  the  desert ; 
before  the  Mollah,  or  Judge,  were  put  the  apricots  of 
Balkan ;  and  before  Abdallah  stood  a  cup  of  the  rich 
wine  of  Sheraz,  celebrated  in  the  songs  of  so  many 
poets.     And  they  sat  down,  each  in  his  place. 

But  Fatima,  from  whom  the  wickedness  of  her 
father  could  not  entirely  be  hid,  suspected  that  he  had 
planned  something  against  the  life  of  Abdallah,  and 
she  sent  a  messenger,  who  came  up  quickly  to  him, 
and  said,  '*  In  the  name  of  the  prophet,  Fatima 
entreats  that  Abdallah  should  taste  nothing  of  what 
is  set  before  him."  Abdallah  obeyed  her  word,  and 
throughout  the  feast  he  tasted  nothing  ;  but  the 
guests  ate  of  what  had  been  provided  for  them. 

And  now  the  clashing  of  cymbals  told  the  com- 


SEIJM  A  A' I)  A  HP  A  LLA  H  I  3  I 


pany  that  the  trial  was  to  begin.  The  nobleman  took 
his  seat  on  a  throne  at  the  end  of  the  room  ;  cups  of 
gold,  which  a  slave  filled  with  pure  water  from  a 
silver  ewer,  were  set  in  order  on  a  table  before  him, 
one  for  each  of  those  who  had  feasted.  Each  guest 
in  turn,  as  he  lifted  the  cup  to  his  lips,  was  required  to 
say  what  had  been  mingled  with  the  water,  and  his 
answer  was  directly  noted  down  by  the  Secretary. 
Each  man  gave  a  different  judgment.  To  one  guest 
the  water  seemed  flavoured  with  almonds  ;  to  another 
with  musk ;  to  a  third  with  pistachio-nuts.  The 
Mollah  was  of  opinion  that  apricots  had  been  mingled 
in  it ;  Selim  declared  that  dates  or  honey  must  have 
been  placed  in  the  cup.  At  last  the  turn  came  to 
Abdallah  :  he  tasted,  and  said,  "  The  water  is  from  the 
fountain  of  the  Rosegarden." 

"  Bring  forth  the  silver  ewer,"  said  the  nobleman. 
The  silver  ewer  was  brou^jht  forth,  and  lo,  at  the 
bottom  of  it  lay  one  of  the  crimson  roses  of  Ispahan. 

Selim  turned  pale  with  rage ;  but  the  guests 
shouted  with  surprize  and  pleasure,  for  they  all  loved 
Abdallah. 

"  What  hast  thou  to  ask  of  me  .''"  said  the  nobleman. 

"  I  ask  the  hand  of  Fatima,"  answ^ered  Abdallah. 

The  nobleman  fulfilled  the  word  that  he  had  given. 
Fatima  was  joined  in  marriage  with  Abdallah  her 
beloved  ;  and  he  was  made  heir  to  the  wealth  of  his 
master.    Nor  did  Selim  escape  without  a  just  reward  ; 

K   2 


I  32  FIVE  DA  KS"  ENTERTAINMENTS 


for  rage  and  disappointment  so  worked  on  his  heart, 
that  on  that  very  evening  the  Angel  of  Death,  for  so 
the  Persians  believe,  was  sent  to  summon  him  to 
judgment.     And  thus  '*  the  whirligig  of  Time  brought 


about  his  revenges." 


"  But  I  don't  see  how  it  was  that  Abdallah  tasted 
the  rose-leaves  in  the  water,"  cried  Lucy  ;  "  you  have 
not  told  us  that,  Anna." 

**  That  is  left  to  my  little  girl's  wits  to  discover," 
said  Mrs.  Wentworth. 

"  It  is  for  the  same  reason  that  we  take  white  paper 
to  write  on,"  said  Arthur,,  laughing  :  "  now  listen  to 
me,  and  wipe  out  of  your  head  for  the  present  what 
you  have  heard  from  Anna." 


ARTHUR'S     THIRD     TALE 

THE  THIEF   IN   THE   FAMILY 

A  PARTY  of  children  were  assembled  together,  a^^ 
we  are  now,  to  spend  a  rainy  afternoon.  There  were 
seven  in  all.  Five  belonged  to  the  family  of  Captain 
Ward,  of  whom  Edmund  and  Lucy  were  the  eldest  ; 
and  there  were  two  cousins,  Robert  and  Arthur 
Robinson. 

Captain  and  Mrs.  Ward  were  very  kind  and  sensible 


THE  THIEF  IN  THE  EAMILY  I  33 

people  ;  for  the  most  part  they  let  their  children  find 
amusement  for  themselves,  but  they  would  step  in  to 
help  them  if  matters  seemed  to  be  at  a  stand-still. 
So  it  was  on  the  day  of  which  I  am  speakinf^.  The 
morning  had  gone  by  pleasantly  enough — in  chess, 
ball,  battledore  and  shuttlecock,  and  other  games. 
When  tired  of  these  the  children  had  amused  them- 
selves with  looking  over  a  collection  of  curiosities 
which  Captain  Ward  had  brought  with  him  from 
India,  where  he  had  served  many  years  before  with  his 
regiment.  There  were  long  taper  lances,  the  **  curst 
Malayan  crease  "  or  flame-like  svvord,  which  all  eyed 
with  fear,  as  its  edges  were  said  to  be  poisoned  ; 
great  leather  shields,  set  round  with  brass  nail-heads  ; 
worked  slippers  from  China,  that  gave  one  the  cramp 
to  look  at  them  ;  and,  above  all,  a  huge  ugly  mask, 
cut  out  of  a  solid  block  of  ebony  wood,  which  the 
priests  used  to  put  on,  in  the  more  distant  villages, 
when  they  desired  to  astonish  the  natives. 

But  the  afternoon  went  by  very  slowly,  in  spite  of  all. 
Arthur  Robinson  proposed  that  they  should  play  cards. 
Lucy  said  their  father  did  not  object,  provided  they 
did  not  play  for  money ;  but  this  the  two  cousins 
declared  would  be  stupid,  and  "  mere  girl's  work." 
So  they  sat  with  their  hands  before  them,  when  Mrs. 
Ward  came  suddenly  into  the  play-room. 

**  I  have  a  new  kind  of  game  for  you,  children," 
said   she.     Their  faces   brightened    up,   and   she   told 


1  34  FIVE  DA  YS'  ENTERTAINMENTS 


them  her  plan.  There  was  a  beautiful  china  cup, 
with  silver  filagree  round  it,  which  the  Captain  had 
brought  over  from  Turkey.  This  Mrs.  Ward  said 
should  be  given  as  a  prize  to  the  child  who  should 
write  the  best  little  essay  or  story  on  a  subject  which 
she  would  set  them. 

The  children  entered  readily  into  the  plan :  paper 
and  ink  were  fetched  by  Edmund,  and  they  all  sat 
down  to  work,  and  to  scribble  as  fast  as  they  could,  on 
the  appointed  subject :  "  Honesty  is  the  best  Policy." 
They  were  to  finish  what  they  had  to  say  by  tea-time, 
and  the  prize  was  to  be  given  the  next  afternoon,  as 
soon  as  Mrs.  Ward  should  have  time  to  read  over 
their  essays,  and  judge  which  was  the  best  deserving. 

But  little  was  said  during  the  rest  of  the  afternoon. 
Pen-feathers  were  greedily  nibbled  ;  many  eyes  were 
anxiously  directed  to  the  carpet,  and  the  ceiling  ap- 
peared to  furnish  excellent  hints ;  but,  on  the  whole 
the  work  seemed  to  prosper  very  fairly. 

When  tea-time  arrived  a  general  buzz  of  conver- 
sation was  set  up.  Edmund  said  not  a  syllable  on 
what  he  had  written  ;  Arthur  Robinson  boasted  that 
he  was  safe  to  win,  for  he  had  often  done  such  things 
before  at  school  ;  and  Lucy  Ward,  like  a  girl,  chat- 
tered about  her  production  till  every  one  knew  what 
she  had  said,  and  what  jokes  she  had  put  in  it. 

(**  Listen  to  that,"  whispered  some  of  Arthur's 
little  hearers. 


THE  THIEF  IN  THE  FAMILY  I  35 


"He  says,  cJiattcrcd  like  a  girll'  cried  Lucy  Went- 
worth.) 

In  the  evening  the  two  cousins  found  themselves 
together  in  one  corner  of  the  room,  and  the  following 
conversation  took  place  : 

**  I  sa\',  Robert,  I  am  sure  you  or  I  shall  win.  The 
others  are  all  such  children." 

"  I  don't  know  that,"  answered  Robert  ;  "  you 
know  it  is  not  at  all  as  it  was  at  school,  when  we 
could  give  each  other  hints." 

'*  Do  you  remember  last  half,  how  I  got  the  prize 
over  that  young  Horrid  Richardson  .'^  "  said  Arthur, 
laughing  unpleasantly ;  ''  I  looked  over  his  shoulder, 
saw  all  that  he  was  writing,  and  managed  so  well  that 
no  one  found  out  I  had  copied." 

"  I  suppose  you  don't  see  any  harm  in  being  a  thief 
when  one  improves  what  one  steals,"  replied  his 
brother.  "  But,  I'll  tell  you  what,"  said  he,  myste- 
riously, drawing  close  up  to  Arthur,  **  if  you  haven't 
looked  sharp,  I  know  who  will  get  the  prize." 

''  Who  } " 

"Why,  Lucy.  She  showed  me  her  writing  just 
now,  and  I  ^am  sure  it  is  the  cleverest  any  of  the 
Wards  have  done  ;  and  Madam  Ward  will  be  sure  to 
give  it  to  one  of  hers,  if  she  can." 

"  Humph  !  "  said  Arthur,  and  talked  of  something 
else. 

Next  morning,  after  breakfast,   the    prize-writings 


I  36  FIVE  DA  YS'  ENTERTAINMENTS 


were  to  be  given  up  to  Mrs.  Ward.  Everybody 
brought  theirs,  sealed  up  with  great  precaution — 
except  Lucy.  Her  mother  inquired,  with  surprize, 
why  she  was  empty-handed  } 

Lucy  could  but  too  easily  give  an  explanation. 
She  had  written  out  her  performance  like  the  rest, 
had  sealed  it  up,  and  left  it,  just  before  she  went  to 
bed,  on  the  top  shelf  of  the  little  book-case,  between 
the  windows  in  the  play-room.  But  now  there  was 
no  sign  of  it.  She  had  reached  right  and  left,  but  to 
no  purpose. 

"  It  is  a  very  odd  thing,  Mary,"  said  the  Captain  to 
his  wife,  when  the  children  had  gone  off  for  the  morn- 
ing ;  "  but  I  can't  help  thinking  that  there  is  something 
awkward  about  Lucy's  paper." 

"  About  its  disappearance,  you  mean,  I  suppose  1  " 

"  Exactly.  I  really  should  be  very  sorry  if  it  is  so, 
but  I  cannot  but  fear  that  the  two  Robinson  boys 
have  had  a  hand  in  it.  I  heard  them  whispering  last 
night  something  about  Lucy's  getting  the  prize  ;  and 
Arthur  turned  very  red  this  morning  when  her  paper 
was  not  forthcoming." 

"  Don't  say  so  ! "  cried  Mrs.  Ward.  "  That  would  be 
shocking  indeed.  I  shall  almost  rather  it  was  one  of 
our  own  children,  if  such  a  thing  has  been  done." 

"  Don't  let  us  say  so,"  replied  her  husband.  ''  The 
blame  on  the  right  head  ! — there  is  no  other  rule. 
And  I  have  heard  whispers  of  their  conduct  at  school 


THE  THIEF  IX  THE  FAMILY  I  37 


which,  unfortunately,  lead  me  to  think  it  not  unlikely 
that  in  this  case  poor  Lucy  may  have  suffered  from 
their  lax  notions  of  honesty." 

"  You  always  make  up  your  mind  so  fast,  my  love." 

"  The  servants  say  they  know  nothing  about  it,  and 
that  they  met  Mr.  Arthur  coming  out  of  the  play- 
room early  this  morning,"  observed  Mr.  Ward,  slowly. 

"  At  any  rate,  we  will  question  them  all  round  ; 
perhaps,  after  all,  it  is  but  an  accident." 

*'  If  the  worst  comes  to  the  worst,  I  think  my 
Indian  recollections  will  supply  me  with  an  excellent 
mode  of  trial,"  answered  her  husband.  And  they  at 
once  set  to  work  to  make  inquiries. 

No  trace  of  the  thief  appeared  ;  and,  in  place  of  the 
prize-giving.  Captain  Ward  ordered  the  whole  party, 
servants  included,  to  assemble  in  his  library  at  one 
o'clock — *'  For  it  is  a  serious  matter,"  said  he  ;  ''  the 
paper  cannot  have  lost  itself,  and  I  cannot  suffer  any 
thieves  in  my  family,  be  they  who  they  may." 

One  o'clock  came.  The  children  started  as  they 
entered  the  library,  for  the  shutters  were  mostly  closed. 
In  the  half-darkness  they  could,  however,  see  a  bench 
placed  behind  a  table,  on  which  lay  a  paper  bag  filled 
with  rice.  Mrs.  Ward  ranged  the  whole  party  behind 
the  bench.  An  awful  silence  prevailed,  and  every  one's 
heart  beat  strongly  when  Captain  Ward,  stepping 
to  the  table,  in  a  grave,  firm  tone,  said, — 

"  The  room  will  presently  be  darkened,  that  so  the 


I  38  FIVE  DA  YS'  ENTERTAINMENTS 


truth  may  clearly  appear.  I  have  often  seen  this  trial 
practised  in  the  East,  and  it  never  failed  of  success  ; 
it  is  true  natural  magic." 

So  saying,  he  ordered  all  to  place  the  left  hand 
behind  the  back,  and  to  hold  forth  the  right.  In  each 
hand  he  placed  a  few  grains  of  rice.  Then  closing 
the  remaining  window-shutter,  he  again  said — 

"  I  shut  out  the  light  that  the  truth  may  appear 
Let  each  person  place  the  rice  within  his  mouth.  But 
woe  to  the  wrong-doer  !  for  a  sure  sign  will  separate 
the  guilty  from  the  innocent." 

There  was  another  awful  moment  of  silence.  Most 
of  the  party  placed  the  rice  within  their  mouths  and 
swallowed  it  without  difficulty.  But  Arthur's  knees 
shook  under  him.  "■  Perhaps  it  will  cause  me  some 
dreadful  illness  if  I  taste  it,"  thought  he.  But  then 
again,  he  remembered,  he  should  assuredly  be  dis- 
covered if  he  did  not  follow  the  order  given.  That 
moment  seemed  to  him  an  hour  of  agony.  He  lifted 
his  hand  to  his  mouth  ;  but  fear  and  his  evil  conscience 
so  wrought  within  him  that  he  was  unable  to  swallow 
the  rice  :  something  seemed  to  grow  within  his  throat : 
he  thought  that  he  would  be  suffocated  :  and  for- 
getting everything  else,  he  called  out  *'  Water  !  Water  ! 
or  I  shall  die."  And  the  children  shuddered  as  they 
heard  him. 

At  this  moment  the  window-shutters  were  thrown 
open  :  daylight  again  flooded  the  room  :  and  all  eyes 


THE  THIEF  IN  THE  FAMILY  I  39 

wore  turned  on  Arthur.  But  before  Captain  Ward 
could  speak  a  word,  the  unhappy  boy  was  on  his 
knees  before  him. 

"  Forgive  me — forgive  me  !  "  he  cried.  "  It  was  I — 
no  one  else  is  to  blame — it  was  I  who  took  Lucy's 
paper — no  one  else  is  to  blame." 

"  Let  all  leave  this  room  but  oncl'  said  the  Captain, 
sternly.  They  obeyed :  Arthur  alone  remained,  as  if 
fixed  to  the  spot  where  he  was  kneeling. 

'*  Oh,  forgive  him — pray  forgive  him, — it  is  partly 
my  fault  for  talking — indeed  it  is,"  v/hispered  Lucy, 
with  tears,  as  she  passed  her  father.  He  pressed  her 
hand  and  said  nothing,  but,  following  the  rest,  with 
his  wife,  locked  and  double-locked  the  door  behind 
him. 

Left  to  himself,  Arthur  had  full  time  to  think 
over  what  he  had  done.  With  many  bitter  tears 
he  repented,  not  only  of  this,  but  of  other  similar 
bad  actions  into  which  evil  example  and  thought- 
lessness had  led  him.  He  begged  that  Captain 
Ward  should  come  and  speak  to  him  :  and  that  he 
judged  Arthur's  repentance  sincere  was  shown  by 
what  followed. 

At  three  o'clock  the  sound  of  a  bell  called 
the  children  into  the  drawing-room.  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Ward  stood  by  a  table,  covered  with  opened 
papers.  Arthur  sat,  covering  his  face,  in  silence 
beside  them. 


140  FIVE  DA  YS'  ENTERTAINMENTS 

Lucy  went  up  and  gently  took  his  hands.  "If  you 
forgive  him," — began  her  father. 

"  Oh,  papa  ; — if  I  forgive  him  !  Indeed  I  do,  with  all 
my  heart,"  cried  she,  in  tears. 

"  Lucy  !  oh,  Lucy  !  "  he  sobbed  out :  "  I  have 
deeply  sinned  ;  I  know  I  have, — and  I  am  deeply 
sorry.  Fix  what  punishment  you  please,  sir,"  con- 
tinued he,  looking  up  at  his  uncle  :  "  I  have  deserved 
it, — and  I  trust  that  I  can  bear  it." 

"  If  she  forgives  you,  it  is  enough,"  answered  the 
Captain.  "  For  it  is  she  whom  you  have  visibly 
injured.  But  pray  that  you  may  be  forgiven  else- 
w^here — for  it  is  not  she  alone  against  whom  you  have 
offended." 

There  was  a  minute's  silence.  The  children  looked 
at  the  papers,  and  thought  how  sadly  the  amusement 
of  the  day  had  been  broken  up. 

"  We  will  forget  what  has  happened,"  said  Mrs- 
Ward,  kindly,  "■  for  Arthur  I  am  sure  will  not.  We 
have  read  these  papers,"  she  continued  more  cheer- 
fully ;  "  there  is  none  in  which  there  is  not  something 
good  :  but  we  have  had  no  difficulty  in  settling  which 
is  the  best.     The  prize  is  given  to  my  dear  Lucy." 

All  the  children  clapped  their  hands ;  but  Lucy  felt 
as  if  she  wished  she  had  never  written,  and  was  ready 
to  burst  into  tears. 

A  look,  however,  from  her  mother  gave  her  strength. 
She  sent  her  feelings  home,  and  kept  quiet  whilst 


THE  THIEF  IN  THE  FAMILY  14  I 


Captain  Ward,  takin<j  up  her  paper,  with  a  firm  and 
clear  voice  read — 

HONESTY    IS   THE    BEST    POLICY. 

"  Honesty  is  the  best  Policy," — as  the  pij^  squeaked 
out,  when  the  thief  caught  him  by  the  ear,  and  the 
farmer  ran  out  and  caught  the  thief  by  the  coat-tail. 
"  Honesty  is  the  best  Policy," — as  the  sailor  said,  when 
he  took  a  lick,  on  the  sly,  in  the  treacle-bucket,  and 
found    it   was    full    of — tar !    **  Is    Honesty   the    best 

Policy  ?  "    thought    little    Barbara    S- ,  when    she 

found  the  stage-manager  had  given  her  a  guinea  in 
place  of  a  shilling, — "  for  he  is  a  careless  man,  and 
will  never  discover  it.  And  then,  my  little  sisters 
have  no  stockings.  Yes, — Honesty  is  the  best  Policy 
— for  if  I  give  it  back,  he  will  trust  me  always,  and 
One  Who  has  seen  me,  though  I  see  Him  not,  will 
not  leave   me  in  poverty." 

'*  But  what  is  Honesty.-^  "  said  Jack  Falstaff,  when 
he  had  robbed  the  carrier  at  Gadshill — "  What  has 
been  conveyed  to  me,  or  by  me,  should  I  not  keep  it } 
But  Conscience  pricks  me.  Yea,  but  it  is  no  matter. 
Can  Conscience  find  me  gold  1 — No.  Or  a  new  horse 
and  doublet  } — No.  Or  a  cup  of  wine  } — No.  Can 
Conscience  steal  poverty  away  } — No.  Conscience 
hath  no  skill  in  wealth  then  } — No.  What  is  Con- 
science .'' — A  word.  What  is  in  that  word  Conscience  ? 
What  is  that  Conscience  1 — Air.  What  is  that 
Honesty  1 — Air.     Therefore  Pll  none  of  it." 


142  FIVE  DAYS'  ENTERTAINMENTS 


"  But  not  so,  o'  my  conscience,"  said  Prince  Hal ; 
and  as  he  spoke,  he  poked  him,  till  the  gold  pieces 
fell  from  under  the  fat  Knight's  girdle. — **  Not  so  ! 
Speak  softly.  Sir  John,  when  the  watch  is  nigh. — 
To  prison.  Sir  John — to  prison  !  What  sayest  thou 
concerning  Honesty }  What  should  the  King  do, 
without  Honesty }  Will  thieving  fit  him  with  a 
Crown  }  Will  thieving  bind  it  fast  on  his  forehead  .'' 
Will  thieving  give  him  rest  under  it  t — And  what 
should  the  Kingdom  do,  without  Honesty  t  Will 
thieving  make  it  rich  .'*  Will  thieving  keep  it  at 
peace  with  neighbours  }  Will  thieving  be  its  guard — 
its  army  t — And  what  should  the  Subject  do,  without 
Honesty }  Will  thieving  make  his  corn  to  grow } 
Will  thieving  make  his  purse  heavy  t — yea — marry — 
but  will  not  thieving  empty  it  }  Will  it  give  a  man 
sleep  o'  nights }  Will  it  keep  his  house  in  order, 
his  men  honest,  and  his  wife  loving  }  Will  thieving 
make  his  heart  light }  Will  it  bind  up  his  wounds  '^. 
Will  it  feed  him  }  Will  it  give  him  salt  to  his  bread  } 
Will  it  give  him  wine  for  water }  Will  it  keep  him 
from  prison,  Sir  John  }  Will  it  keep  him  from 
prison  }  Will  it  keep  him  from  the  rope  i* — and 
what  after.  Sir  John,  and  what  after.?" 

'*  I   know   who  has  stolen    what."    said    Charles — 
"  and  whence  he  has  cribbed  it — but  no  matter !" 
"  I    have   treated  it  so,  that   I   fear   I  have  made 


9 

C ERISA  143 


it    my   own,"    replied    Arthur,    making   way    for   the 
next  speaker. 


EMILY'S   THIRD   TALE 

CERISA 

There  were  once  a  Husband  and  Wife,  who  had 
lived  long  together,  but,  to  their  great  grief,  they  had 
no  children.  But  at  last,  when  they  had  almost 
given  up  hoping  for  it,  it,  appeared  likely  that  there 
would  be  a  little  one  in  the  cradle. 

It  happened  one  day,  about  this  time,  that  they 
were  standing  together  at  the  window  of  their  room, 
looking  out  into  a  garden  which  lay  below  them. 
"  Husband "  said  the  Wife,  ''  I  must  have  some  of 
those  cherries  to  eat,  or  else  I  am  sure  I  shall  fall 
ill  and  die." — *'  Another  day,"  said  he,  and  kissed  her. 

This  garden,  I  must  tell  you,  belonged  to  a  Witch, 
and  no  one  ever  dared  to  go  into  it,  although  the 
finest  fruit-trees  in  the  whole  world  grew  there,  and 
you  could  see  the  topmost  boughs  of  the  cherry- 
tree,  covered  with  fruit  as  bright  as  rubies,  over  the 
boundary  wall.  But  every  day  the  wife  begged  her 
husband  to  bring  her  the  cherries,  saying  that  she 
should  fall  ill  and  die  if  she  did  not  have  them  to 
eat,  till  he  knew  not  what  to  do,  and  was  in  great 
trouble  of  mind. 


144  FIVE  DA  KS"  ENTERTAINMENTS 


At  last,  one  day,  he  said  to  himself,  "  Come  what 
may  come,  it  must  be  done."  So  he  climbed  over 
the  high  wall,  and  gathering  in  all  haste  a  bough 
from  the  cherry-tree,  laden  with  the  ruby  fruit,  he 
brought  it  to  his  wife.  She  found  them  even  better 
than  she  had  expected,  and  next  day  nothing  would 
serve  but  he  must  again  climb  over  into  the  garden. 
But  on  the  third  day,  no  sooner  did  he  lay  his  hand 
on  a  bough,  than  the  Witch  ran  out  of  her  house  : 
her  eyes  glowed  like  coals  of  fire,  and  her  breath 
withered  whatever  it  fell  on. 

In  vain  he  tried  to  excuse  himself  for  the  theft  by 
tellinor  of  his  wife's  illness.  She  cursed  him  with 
every  evil  under  the  sun.  At  last,  however,  his 
words  and  prayers  seemed  to  move  her,  and  she 
said,  ''  The  theft  I  will  pardon :  but  on  this  one 
condition,  that  as  soon  as  your  child  is  born,  you 
shall  give  it  up  to  me."  And  in  his  fear,  hardly 
knowing  what  he  was  about,  the  man  agreed  to 
the  condition. 

In  due  time  a  pretty  little  girl  made  her  appear- 
ance. The  Husband,  who  had  forgotten  his  promise, 
vv^as  rejoicing  over  the  baby  with  his  wife,  when  the 
Witch  suddenly  appeared  and  demanded  that  Cerisa 
(so  they  had  called  her  from  a  red  cherry-mark  on 
her  right  shoulder)  should  be  given  up  to  her. 

The  parents  wept  and  lamented.  There  really 
never  was  such  a  pitiful  sight  since  little  babies  were 


C ERISA  145 


born  and  licard  of.  But  meantime  Ccrisa  lay  fast 
asleep  in  her  cradle,  and  never  took  any  notice  of 
what  her  papa  and  mamma  were  saying  about  her. 
They  begged  so  hard,  that  at  last  the  Witch  agreed 
to  leave  their  child  with  them  ;  only,  if  she  tasted 
any  of  the  cherries  that  grew  in  the  Witch's  garden, 
she  was  to  be  given  up  to  her  "  without  any  further 
nonsense." 

Cerisa  grew  up  the  most  beautiful  maiden  under 
the  sky.  When  she  was  fourteen  years  old,  one  day, 
walking  by  the  garden-wall,  she  saw  one  long  branch, 
which  had  overshot  it  and  hung  down  temptingly 
within  her  reach,  covered  with  the  ruby  cherries.  "  I 
am  only  forbidden  to  go  into  the  garden,"  thought 
she  ;  "  I  may  gather  one  of  these  cherries  without 
doing  wrong."  But  the  moment  it  touched  her  lips 
she  found  herself  carried  swiftly  through  the  air,  and 
lodged  at  the  top  of  a  high  Tower,  from  the  window 
of  which  she  could  see  nothing  but  trees,  trees,  trees 
all  round  her. 

Then  she  sat  down  and  wept  the  day  away.  But 
when  evening  came  she  heard  the  Witch  calling  out 
below  the  Tower: — 

Cerisa,  Cerisa, 

Let  down  your  golden  locks. 

Now  Cerisa  had  very  long,  beautiful  hair,  as  fine 
as  spun  gold  :  and  when  she  heard  this,  she  untied 

L 


1 46  FIVE  DA  YS'  ENTERTAINMENTS 


the  ribbon  from  her  head,  looked  out  through  the 
window,  and  let  her  ringlets  fall  down — full  fifty  feet 
— to  the  ground  ;  and  then  the  Witch  climbed  up  by 
them  as  by  a  ladder  into  the  Tower. 

So  every  day  she  came,  and  brought  Cerisa  food, 
that  she  might  not  die,  and  then  beat  her  and 
cruelly  used  her.  And  Cerisa  sat  always  at  the 
window  and  sang,  though  her  heart  was  ready  to 
break. 

But  one  day  it  happened  that  a  young  Prince  was 
hunting  in  the  forest  around  the  Tower.  He  came  to 
the  foot  of  it,  and  when  he  looked  up  he  saw  the 
lovely  Cerisa  at  the  window,  and  heard  her  singing 
with  her  sad,  sweet  voice,  till,  as  he  looked  and  whilst 
he  listened,  he  fell  in  love  with  the  fair  maiden.  But 
as  there  was  no  door  to  the  Tower,  and  the  window 
was  high  up  above  his  reach,  he  knew  not  what  to  do ; 
however,  he  hid  himself  in  the  bushes  close  by,  and 
watched,  to  see  if  any  luck  was  in  store  for  him.  And 
at  evening  came  the  wicked  Witch,  and  she  stood 
beneath  the  Tower,  and  called  out, 

Cerisa,  Cerisa, 

Let  down  youi-  golden  locks. 

Then  the  Prince  saw  what  the  ladder  was  by  which 
people  could  get  into  the  Tower.  He  thought  it  was 
a  very  charming  kind  of  ladder,  and  that  he  should 
much  like  to  have  a  nice  climb  up  it.     So  next  morn- 


C  ERISA  147 


ing,  as  soon  as  it  was   dawn,  he  came  alone  to   the 
same  place,  and  called  out, 

Cerisa,  Cerisa, 

Let  down  your  golden  locks. 

Cerisa  wondered  who  it  might  be,  as  the  Witch  had 
left  her  an  hour  before  day-break.  But,  without 
stopping  to  think  a  minute  (you  know  she  was  onl}' 
fourteen  years  old,  ONLY  fourteen),  she  lowered  her 
golden  hair,  and  it  hung  down  fift}-  feet,  to  the  ver}' 
base  of  the  Tower. 

O  how  surprized  and  a  little  frightened  she  was 
when,  instead  of  the  friq;htful  Witch,  there  stood 
before  her  a  handsome  young  Prince  !  But  he  was  so 
gentle  and  good,  that  she  soon  began  to  love  him  in 
return,  as  wise  people  say,  "  Love  me,  and  I'll  love 
you."  All  day  he  stayed  with  her,  and  when  night 
came  he  went  down  from  the  chamber  by  the  same 
way  as  he  had  entered  it ;  and  so  it  w^ent  on  for  many 
days  ;  for  the  Prince  did  not  know  what  to  do  without 
his  little  wife  wdth  the  ladder-locks :  for  so  he  called 
Cerisa. 

But  at  last,  one  unlucky  evening — whether  Cerisa 
was  in  a  bad  humour  or  not,  I  cannot  say — when  the 
Witch  appeared  at  the  foot  of  the  Tower,  and  was 
climbing  up  into  the  chamber,  Cerisa  called  out  to 
her,  "  Make  haste,  old  mother!"  (for  now  that  she 
had  some  one  to  care  for  her  she  was  less  afraid  of 

L  2 


14^  FIVE  DAYS'  ENTERTAINMENTS 


the  Witch),  "  and  cHmb  up,  for  you  are  not  nearly  so 
Hght  a  weight  as  the  Prince." 

"  Ah,  you  wicked  child  !  What  is  it  that  you  say !" 
screamed  out  the  old  woman  ;  "  but  I  will  punish  you 
for  it." 

So  she  took  Cerisa's  hair,  twisted  it  round  her  left 
hand,  and  pulling  out  a  great  pair  of  shears,  she  went 
snip,  snip,  snip,  till  it  was  all  cut  off.  Then  turning 
to  Cerisa  with  a  terrible  fierce  look,  she  blew  on  her 
face,  and  in  a  moment  Cerisa  found  herself  lying 
alone  in  a  little  wretched  hut,  in  the  midst  of  a  vast 
wilderness  ;  and  there  she  spent  many  days,  weeping 
and  lamenting,  and  ready  to  perish  with  hunger. 
And  the  Witch  took  poor  Cerisa's  beautiful  hair  and 
fastened  it  well  to  a  hook  that  stuck  out  by  the 
window. 

But  next  morning  the  Prince  presented  himself  at 
the  foot  of  the  Tower.     He  called  out, 

Cerisa,  Cerisa, 

Let  down  your  golden  locks. 

The  Witch  let  the  hair  fall  down,  and  when  the  Prince 
had  climbed  up,  he  found  some  one  very  different 
from  Cerisa  waiting  to  receive  him. 

"  You  had  better  take  me  for  your  Cerisa,"  she 
said,  grinning  at  him  with  a  horrible  grin,  "  for 
you  will  never  see  her  any  more  ;  never — never — 
never." 


C  ERISA  149 


And  with  that  she  flung  him  headlong  from  the 
Tower  ;  and  when  he  rose  up,  bruised  and  aching  from 
the  fall,  he  found  himself  in  utter  bhndness. 

Then  the  unhappy  Prince  wandered  day  and  night 
groping  his  way  through  the  forest  ;  and  as  he  went 
he  still  called  out,  *'  Cerisa — Cerisa  ! "  but  no  one 
answered  him.  At  last  a  Dove,  as  she  sat  on  a  tree 
with  her  mate,  pitying  him,  flew  down  and  said  : 

"  Go  to  the  Witch's  garden,  and  gather  three  cherries 
from  the  tree.  The  Witch  will  pursue  after  you,  but 
fear  not ;  throw  down  the  cherries  in  her  path,  and  go 
on  your  way  to  the  wilderness  of  Eremia ;  there  will 
you  find  the  lovely  Cerisa." 

The  Prince  thanked  the  bird  and  went  on  his  wa}', 
and  the  Dovx  flew  before  him  ;  and  every  now  and 
then  with  a  soft  cooy  she  guided  him  in  safety  till 
he  reached  the  garden.  Everything  fell  out  as  the 
Dove  had  prophesied.  The  Prince  plucked  the  cher- 
ries ;  and  presently  he  heard  the  Witch  running  after 
him  with  loud  cries  and  curses.  He  tasted  one  of  the 
cherries  and  flung  the  stone  on  the  ground.  Directly, 
a  terrible  Bloodhound  arose  on  the  place,  and  fell 
furiously  on  the  Witch  ;  but  she  threw  the  hound  a 
piece  of  bread,  which  quieted  him,  and  at  once  the 
Prince  heard  the  sound  of  her  great  feet  coming  after 
him.  So  he  threw  down  the  second  cherry-stone. 
This  became  a  Wolf,  who  sprang  at  the  Witch's  throat, 
and   would    have    stifled    her,   but    she   grasped    him 


I  50  FIVE  DA  YS'  ENTERTAINMENTS 


tightly  by  the  neck  till  he  fell  dead ;  and  again  she 
ran  after  the  Prince.  Every  moment  she  gained 
on  him,  when  he  threw  down  the  only  remaining 
cherry-stone :  a  huge  Lion  immediately  appeared,  who 
rushed  on  the  wicked  woman,  and  tore  her  limb  from 
limb  amidst  her  loud  screams  and  curses. 

Then  the  Prince  knew  that  he  was  safe.  He  groped 
his  way  in  blindness  to  the  desert  of  Eremia  ;  and 
presently  he  heard  a  sweet  voice  singing, 

Come  thro'  the  wild  wood, 
Come  thro'  the  wilderness ; 
Here  is  thy  loved  one 
Lying  in  wretchedness. 

Hark  how  the  wild  wolves 
Howl  thro'  the  wilderness  : 
Come  to  thy  loved  one, 
Save  her  from  Avretchedness. 

The  Prince  knew  it  was  Cerisa,  and  his  heart  leapt 
within  him.  Hastily  he  ran  on,  and  fell  on  her  neck. 
"  Art  thou  come  ! "  said  she.  "  I  have  waited  for  thee 
long — long," — and  the  tears  rose  in  her  eyes.  But 
two  of  them  fell  upon  the  Prince  as  he  embraced 
her :  they  touched  his  eye-balls,  and  at  once  his  sight 
was  restored  to  him,  clear  and  bright,  as  it  had  been  of 
old.  And  he  took  Cerisa  with  him  from  the  wilder- 
ness to  his  palace,  where  they  spent  their  lives  together 
in  peace  and  happiness. 


THE  POOn  NOBLE  1 5  I 


"  How  I  like  those  fairy  stories!"  cried  one  of  the 
httlc  children,  "  I  like  them  so  much  :  they  always 
end  so  pleasantl}'." 

*'  Bread  and  butter  at  first,  and  plum-cake  to  finish, 
I  suppose,"  said  Arthur,  stroking  the  child's  hair. 
'*  Don't  you  wish  everything  would  end  so,  Margaret  ?  " 

"  Oh,  but  why  does  it  not  ? "  said  she. 

**  That's  more  than  I  can  tell,"  answered  Arthur. 

"  Then  it  ought,"  cried  she. 

"  If  it  did,"  said  Mrs.  Wentworth,  "  for  one  thing, 
you  would  not  care  to  hear  fairy  stories.  But  it  is 
getting  late,  dear,  so  do  not  let  us  interrupt  Eleanor  ; 
I  see  she  is  in  a  hurry  to  begin,  and  has  got  something 
good  to  give  us." 

"  Don't,  please,  Mrs.  Wentworth,"  said  Eleanor, 
"  you  confuse  me  so!' 

Every  one  looked  grave  and  good,  and  in  a  few 
moments  the  speaker  was   ready. 


ELEANOR'S    THIRD    TALK 

THE    POOR    NOHLE 

There  was  in  the  city  of  Elorence  a  certain  widow 
lady  of  high  birth  and  great  beauty,  named  Gabriella. 
Her  husband  had  left  her  with  only  one  child,  to 
whom,  by   the  last  will  of  his  father,  his  great  riches 


I  5  2  FIVE  DA  YS'  ENTERTAINMENTS 

were  to  go  so  soon  -as  he  should  come  of  age. 
But  meanwhile,  as  Gabriella  was  still  young  and 
beautiful,  there  were  many  among  the  nobles  of  the 
city  who  sought  her  hand  in  marriage.  The  most 
distinguished  of  these  was  the  Count  Leonardo,  a 
young  man,  who  in  birth,  in  riches,  and  in  honour, 
appeared  well  worthy  to  gain  the  love  of  Gabriella. 
Every  day  he  would  command  his  trumpet  to  be 
sounded  in  the  great  square  of  the  city,  and  procla- 
mation to  be  made  that  he  was  ready  to  engage  in 
fight  with  any  one  who  denied  that  Gabriella  was  the 
fairest  of  living  ladies.  And  if  any  one  was  so  bold 
as  to  accept  the  challenge,  Leonardo  would  speedily 
ride  against  him,  lance  in  hand,  and,  unhorsing  him, 
compel  him  to  own  the  truth  which  he  had  so  rashly 
called  in  question.  And  in  all  other  noble  exercises 
he  strove  to  distinguish  himself,  by  the  courtesy  of 
his  words  and  manners  approving  himself  in  the  sight 
of  the  inhabitants  of  all  Florence,  as  the  worthiest 
person  to  win  the  lady's  love.  And  every  day  he 
would  give  sumptuous  feasts  within  his  palace-hall, 
not  only  to  display  his  magnificence  and  liberality, 
but  more  especially  for  this  reason,  because  he  knew 
that  Gabriella,  who  had  been  delicately  brought  up 
from  her  youth,  delighted  somewhat  beyond  measure 
in  such  entertainments. 

But  for  all  this  he  could  not  gain  one  word  or  look 
of  love  from  the  fair  Gabriella.     She  listened  to  the 


THE  POOR  NOBLE  I  53 


songs,  in  which  he  spoke  the  praises  of  her  beauty  : 
she  sat  at  his  table,  drank  of  his  wines  and  joined 
with  him  in  the  dance  :  but  her  heart  seemed  cold 
and  hardened  against  his  love.  How  cruel  she  was  ! 
Love  for  love  seemed  of  no  use  with  her !  But,  you 
see,  this  is  not  a  fairy  story,  but  something  that  really 
went  on  in  the  world  as  it  is. 

Now  it  came  to  pass  that  when  Count  Leonardo 
had  lived  for  some  while  after  this  fashion,  spending 
his  wealth  as  if  it  had  no  bounds,  and  gaining  nothing 
in  return,  his  riches  began  to  fail  him.  And  at  last 
only  a  small  country-house  was  left  :  and  of  all 
his  treasures  none  remained  except  a  single  tame 
pheasant,  which  many  months  before  he  had  received 
as  a  gift  of  courtesy  from  Gabriella,  and  which  he  now 
kept  and  valued  in  remembrance  of  one  by  whom  he 
was  already  forgotten.  And,  as  he  still  loved  her 
as  much  as  ever,  and  could  no  longer  keep  up  in 
Florence  the  state  suitable  to  his  rank,  he  retired  to 
the  country-house.  And  there  he  spent  his  days — 
working  with  his  own  hands  in  the  little  garden  to 
raise  such  simple  food  as  he  could  live  on,  and 
amusing  himself  at  leisure  times  with  the  tame 
pheasant.  And  thus  with  the  utmost  patience  did 
he  bear  the  weight   of  his   poverty. 

After  a  while  Gabriella  also,  growing  weary,  as  was 
thought,  of  the  gaiety  and  amusements  of  the  city, 
retired  to  live  for  a  while   in  her  beautiful  country 


154  FIVE  DAYS'  ENTERTAINMENTS 


palace,  which  stood  in  the  neighbourhood  of  the 
cottage  in  which  Leonardo  had  settled.  And  her 
son,  who  came  with  her,  before  long  renewing  his 
knowledge  of  the  Count,  would  spend  great  part  of 
the  day  with  him,  hearing  from  him  the  many  tales 
of  adventures  by  land  and  sea,  which  Leonardo  had 
gone '  through,  and  amusing  himself  also  with  the 
beautiful  pheasant,  till,  as  was  natural  to  a  boy,  a 
great  wish  to  possess  the  bird  entered  into  his  mind, 
although  he  did  not  know  how  he  should  gain  a  trea- 
sure which  was  so  precious  in  the  eyes  of  its  master. 

And  as  things  were  thus,  it  so  happened  that  the 
boy  fell  sick.  His  mother,  who  had  no  other  child, 
and  loved  him  dearly,  was  much  grieved,  and  all  day 
long  she  would  be  about  his  bed,  waiting  upon  him, 
and  giving  him  what  comfort  she  could.  Often  she 
would  ask  him,  if  there  was  anything  which  he 
specially  longed  for,  begging  him  not  to  hide  it 
from  her,  as  she  would  send  to  the  ends  of  the  world 
to  gain  it  for  him,  if  it  were  possible.  At  last,  one 
day,  when  the  child  had  heard  his  mother  frequently 
speak  thus,  he  said,  "  Mother,  if  you  could  procure  for 
me  Count  Leonardo's  tame  pheasant,  for  me  to  look 
at  and  to  play  with,  I  think  I  should  speedily  recover." 
When  the  lady  heard  this,  she  kept  silence  for  a 
while,  and  thought  within  herself  how  she  should 
act.  She  knew  how  long  Leonardo  had  loved  her, 
and  that  he  had  never  received  from  her  any  return 


THE  POOI^  NOBLE 


^55 


of  love.  "  How  can  I,"  she  thought,  "  send  to  beg- 
him  for  a  treasure,  which,  as  I  hear,  he  prizes  so 
dearly  ?  How  can  I  take  from  him  the  only  thing 
left  on  which  he  sets  a  value  ?  And  yet,  were  I 
to  beg  it  of  him,  I  know  well,  he  would  grant  it." 
But  then,  again,  when  she  turned  to  her  child,  and 
saw  him  lie  there  in  sickness,  love  for  him  conquered 
every  other  thought :  and  come  what  would,  she  de- 


termined that,  without  sending  any  other  messenger, 
she  would  herself  go  and  beg  the  gift  from  Leonardo. 


1 56  FIVE  DA  KS"  ENTERTAINMENTS 


And  when  she  said  this  to  her  child,  he  was  at  once 
comforted,  and  his  health  began  to  return  to  him. 
So  next  morning  Gabriella,  taking  with  her  another 
lady  for  companionship,  set  off  for  the  little  cottage 
of  Leonardo.  It  was  early  ;  and  the  Count,  according 
to  his  wont,  was  at  his  labour  in  the  garden.  And 
when  he  heard  that  the  Lady  Gabriella  was  at  the 
door,  he  went  to  meet  her  :  wondering  within  himself 
what  it  might  be  that  had  brought  her  thither.  But 
when  Gabriella  saw  him,  with  courtesy  and  pleasure 
she  gave  him  greeting,  and  said,  "  I  am  come  to  make 
Count  Leonardo  amends  for  the  losses  he  has  suffered 
from  love  of  me :  and  these  are  the  amends — that  I 
shall  this  day  give  him  my  company,  and  shall  partake 
of  entertainment  beneath  his  roof." — "  I  have  sustained 
no  loss  through  Gabriella,"  answered  he,  courteously ; 
"  all  that  has  made  my  life  happy,  on  the  contrary,  I 
have  received  from  you.  Lady  :  and  if  I  cannot  now 
welcome  you  with  due  honour,  as  of  old,  it  is  not 
owing  to  my  will,  but  to  my  poverty."  And  with 
these  words  he  led  the  ladies  within  his  cottage  :  and, 
going  forth  into  the  garden,  there  for  a  time  he  left 
them. 

But  Leonardo  walked  up  and  down  the  garden  in 
agony  :  for  he  remembered  how  of  old  Gabriella 
delighted  in  feasts  and  in  magnificence  :  and  now,  so 
deep  was  his  poverty,  that  he  knew  not  whence  he 
could  provide  anything  to  set  before  her.     Now,  for 


THE  POOR  'NOBLE  I  5  7 

the  first  time,  he  truly  felt  the  full  depth  of  his  ill 
fortune.  Now,  for  the  first  time  after  so  many  days, 
she  whom  he  so  dearly  loved  was  beneath  his  roof. 
Now,  for  the  first  time,  he  was  unable  to  do  her 
honour.  He  remembered  her  tastes,  and  thought  he 
must  make  ready  a  little  feast  fit  for  so  fair  a  lady. 
But  there  was  nothing  proper  in  the  cottage ;  for 
Leonardo  himself  lived  very  simply  :  and  besides  that, 
you  know,  he  was  not  in  that  good  fairy-land,  where 
wishing  is  having,  but,  as  I  have  said,  in  the  world  as 
it  is.  What  should  he  do  ?  Right  and  left  he  looked, 
but  he  could  find  nothing.  Turning  his  eyes  at  last 
upward,  there  before  him,  on  its  perch,  he  saw  his 
much-valued  favourite.  Without  hesitation,  but  not 
without  tears,  he  called  the  pheasant  down.  It 
perched  on  his  hand  :  and  then,  as  if  knowing  for 
what  service  it  was  required,  it  gave  up  its  life,  in 
obedience  to  its  master's  wishes. 

Leonardo,  giving  the  bird  to  his  servant  to  take  to 
the  fire,  returned  to  the  cottage.  And  there,  in  gay 
conversation,  the  time  went  by  till  the  table  was 
spread ;  and  Leonardo,  sitting  down  with  his  guests, 
and  soon  forgetting  everything  that  had  passed,  in  the 
joy  of  Gabriella's  presence,  ate  of  the  pheasant  with 
the  ladies,  who  had  no  thought  of  the  sacrifice  to 
which  poverty  had  driven  him.  And  when  it  was 
now  time  to  depart,  Gabriella  turned  to  Leonardo, 
and  in  a  gentle  voice  reminded  him  of  the  days  that 


15^  FIVE  DA  YS'  ENTERTAINMENTS 


were  past,  and  of  the  love  which  he  had  borne  her. 
"  But  if  you  could  know  the  love  which  mothers  bear 
to  their  children,"  she  said,  "  you  would  not,  as  you 
must  do,  wonder  at  my  presence,  but  would  rather 
excuse  and  honour  me.  I  have  indeed  a  request  to 
make  to  you — and  a  request  for  that  which  you  prize 
as  your  last  remaining  treasure.  But  I  ask  it — not 
for  the  love  which  you  bear  me,  which  gives  me  no 
claim  to  ask,  but  for  that  honour  and  nobility  of 
soul  in  which  you  are  distinguished  above  your 
fellows,  knowing  that  you  wnll  esteem  it  a  high  thing 
if  by  the  gift  of  the  bird  you  can  save  the  life  of  my 
child,  who  is  sick,  and  whose  mind  in  that  gift  alone 
can  see  a  remedy." 

But  Leonardo  could  only  answer  by  tears.  This 
was  the  first  gift  that  Gabriella  had  requested  from 
him  :  it  was  the  only  gift  that  she  could  request  from 
him  :  and  he  was  utterly  unable  to  give  it.  Mis- 
taking his  silence,  she  had  begun  to  fear  that  she 
had  asked  for  what  was  too  precious  to  be  granted, 
even  to  her,  when  Leonardo,  looking  up,  thus 
addressed  her : — 

"  Lady,  since  the  time  when  first  it  was  the  will 
of  Heaven  that  I  should  place  my  love  on  you,  in 
many  ways  I  have  had  to  feel  the  spite  of  for- 
tune. But  before  that  which  has  now  fallen  upon 
me,  other  evils  appear  as  nothing.  For  now,  when 
you   have  come  beneath  this  poor  roof,  and  begged 


THE  POOR  NOBLE  I  59 


of  nic  a  favour,  such  as  in  the  days  of  my  wcaUh 
you  never  asked,  things  so  are  that  I  am  unable  to 
grant  it." 

And  then  Leonardo  informed  Gabriella  of  what  had 
happened  ;  of  his  great  poverty  ;  of  the  straits  in 
which  he  had  found  himself  how  to  supply  a  feast 
in  any  way  worthy  of  his  guests  ;  and  of  the  only 
possible  means  left,  to  which  at  last  necessity  had 
driven  him.  And  then,  in  proof  of  what  he  had  said, 
he  threw  down  before  Gabriella  the  beak  and  the 
long  tail-feathers  of  the  favourite  pheasant.  Then 
Gabriella,  seeing  what  had  befallen,  wept  bitter  tears  ; 
and  without  uttering  one  word  more,  rising  up,  she 
courteously  bowed  her  head  to  Leonardo,  and  returned 
in  silence  to  her  palace. 

And  as  she  went,  Gabriella  thought  of  the  poverty 
of  Count  Leonardo,  and  of  his  nobleness,  and  of 
the  love  which  he  had  shown  towards  her.  And 
then  she  thought  with  fear  and  terror  on  her  sick 
child,  lest  when  he  heard  the  news  she  had  to  bring 
his  illness  should  return  upon  him.  And  so  it 
was ;  for  when  the  sick  child  heard  the  news  which 
Gabriella  had  to  bring,  his  illness  came  back  upon 
him,  and  he  turned  his  head  to  the  wall,  and  so 
died. 

But  when  the  time  of  mourning  was  over,  Gabriella 
sought  out  her  brothers  in  the  city  of  Florence,  and 
said  to  them  : — 


l6o  FIVE  DAYS'  ENTERTAINMENTS 


"A  second  time,  as  you  see,  am  I  now  left  alone, 
and  my  wealth  is  a  burden  and  a  weight  to  me. 
And  so,  having  taken  counsel  with  myself,  it  is  my 
mind  henceforth  to  offer  to  share  all  I  have  with  the 
Count  Leonardo." 

On  this  her  brothers  mocked  at  Gabriella,  saying — 

'*  Will  you  give  yourself  to  one  who  is  in  such 
poverty  V 

But  she  answered  them  : — 

"  I  know  well,  my  brothers,  that  as  you  say,  so  it  is. 
But  it  is  better  to  find  a  man  who  needs  wealth,  than 
wealth  that  stands  in  need  of  an  owner.  And  again  : 
better  is  nobleness  of  heart  with  poverty  of  station, 
than  nobility  of  station  with  poverty  of  heart.  I 
was  against  it  once,  and  you  are  now.  I  am  sorry, 
but  so  it  must  be ;  I  cannot  help  it ; — Love  can  do 
more  than  any  two  of  us." 

And  so,  returning  to  the  cottage  of  Count  Leonardo, 
the  Lady  Gabriella  gave  him  her  hand ;  and  through- 
out the  course  of  their  lives  a  blessing  from  above 
rested  upon  them. 

**  A  satisfactory  close  to  the  day's  work,"  said 
Mrs.  Wentworth.  "  For  the  sake  of  the  little  ones 
I  might  perhaps  have  wished  that  a  fairy  story 
had  taken  the  last  place;  but  this  I  suppose  would 
have  broken  in  on  your  arrangement.  And  indeed, 
Eleanor,  no  one  can  deny,  that,  as  they  say,  your ' 


THE  POOR  NOBLE  1 6 


story  leaves  us  with  a  sweet  taste  in  our  mouths  for 
the  evening." 

"  Stolen  waters  are  often  sweet,"  said  Arthur,  with 
a  wise  air :  "  1  thought  she  turned  that  difficult  sen- 
tence, Love  can  do  more,  very  neatly." 

"  We  must  not  be  too  severe  on  the  whence  and 
the  wherefore  of  our  story-tellers,"  replied  the  lady. 
"  How  little  has  any  man — even  the  most  productive 
genius — that  he  can  truly  call  his  own  !  What  he 
gives — even  a  Shakespeare — is  hardly  more  than  a 
better  re-arrangement  of  existing  materials.  And 
this  is  especially  the  case  in  regard  to  tales,  the 
plots  of  which  seem  to  be,  like  the  sun  and  air, 
the  common  property  of  mankind.  For  my  part," 
.she  ended,  rising,  "  I  am  glad  to  see  that  Eleanor 
has  turned  to  such  good  account  her  knowledge  of 
Italian." 

And  with  these  words  Mrs,  Wentworth  led  the  little 
party  to  the  conservatory.  The  central  space  had 
been  cleared  out,  and  was  occupied  for  this  occasion 
by  a  long  table,  on  w^hich  cakes,  fruit,  and  wine  were 
arranged  in  quantities.  And  as  the  children,  in  their 
light  dresses  and  most  smiling  looks,  sat  down  to  the 
feast,  surrounded  with  the  gay  flowers  and  cheerful 
green  leaves  of  plants,  that  seemed  to  have  caught 
some  part  of  the  brilliancy  of  a  southern  sun  and 
carried  it  with  them  to  our  own  darker  climate — the 
whole    formed    a    prettier   picture,  even,   than   those 

M 


1.62  FIVE  DAYS'  ENTERTAINMENTS 

which  the  little  story-tellers  had  set  before  the 
company,  and  there  was  hardly  any  kind  of  taste,  in 
all  the  senses  of  the  word,  which  would  not  have  been 
pleased  to  be  there. — I  wish  we  all  had  ! 


END   OF   THE   THIRD   DAY 


THE   MAN    WTIHOU  r   A   NOSE 


THE  MAN  WITHOUT  A  NOSE^  163 


FOURTH    DAY 


Lilies,  cowslips,  violets,  roses, 
All  are  swe^t  in  children's  posies. 


Our  party  may,  as  the  reader  will  perhaps  havc 
seen,  be  divided  into  two  classes  :  Tale  bearers 
and  Tale  hearers  :  or  again,  into  moveable  and 
constant  listeners — to  the  former  of  whom,  by  right 
of  age,  belonged  the  arrangement  and  the  choice 
of  subjects. 

When  all  had  assembled  for  the  Fourth  day,  a 
spirit  of  triumph  appeared  among  the  latter  class  : 
it  had  got  out  among  them  that  this  was  to  be  the 
last  day  but  one  of  their  English  afternoon  enter- 
tainments ;  and  the  meaning  and  limits  of  the  series 
now  became  clear  to  them. 

"  There  are  only  two  subjects  left  on  which  you 
are  to  amuse  us,"  said  Lucy  Wcntworth, — "  we  can 
guess  them  ! " 

^*  Only  we  do  not  know  which  will  come  first,"  said 
the  little  Margaret. 

M  2 


1 64  FIVE  DA  YS'  ENTERTAINMENTS 


Arthur,  laughing,  answered,  ^*  Perhaps,  to  find  out 
that,  you  will  have  nothing  to  do  but  to  follow 
your " 

"  We  know  what,"  cried  the  little  ones  together — 
**  you  need  not  tell  us." 

"  Begin  then,  first  story-teller,"  said  Mrs.  Went- 
worth  ; "  they  will  soon  see  whether  they  are  on  the 
right  scent  or  no." 

And  on  this  Eleanor  stept  forward  and  took  her 
place   at  the  rosewood  table. 


ELEANOR'S    FOURTH    TALE 

THE   MAN  WITHOUT  A  NOSE 

"  So  we  are  to  have  a  new  General  to  command 
the  Palace  Guards,"  said  Isabella,  the  Queen  of 
Hungary,  to  the  great  Court  Chamberlain. 

"  It  is  so,  your  Highness,"  answered  he ;  *'  Baron 
Senefif  has  been  specially  selected  for  this  duty  by 
His  Majesty,  as  one  of  the  bravest  officers  and 
most  courteous  gentlemen  in  the  whole  of  his  army." 

"  He  served  in  the  battle  of  Popumoff,  if  I  remem- 
ber rightly,"  said  the  Queen. 

"  He  did  so,  of  course,  your  Highness,"  said  the 
Chamberlain — trying  to  remember  whether  the  Baron 
was  born  or  not  at  the  date  of  the  battle,  and  what 


THE  MAN  WITHOUT  A  NOSE  1 65 

the  battle  was  about, — "  and  there,  and  in  all  other 
engagements  he  greatly  distinguished  himself." 

"  Let  him  be  presented  to  me  as  soon  as  he  shall 
arrive,"  said  the  Queen,  leaving  the  chamber. 

"  What  a  memory  our  gracious  Queen  has,"  said 
the  Chamberlain,  addressing  himself  to  Louise  von 
Ente,  the  Maid  of  Honour  who  remained  on  duty  to 
watch  the  royal  lap-dog.  Her  business  was  to  keep 
his  tail  out  of  the  cream-saucer,  and  his  nose  in  it. 
"  But  this  Baron  Seneff,  as  I  said,  greatly  distinguished 
himself  somewhere  ;  indeed,  he  may  be  said  to  have 
been  distinguished  by  the  battle  whether  he  would  or 
not — for  it  is  a  very  strange  thing  ;  but  in  the  thick 
of  the  fight  he  received  a  blow  aimed  full  on  the 
face  from  a  Turkish  battle-axe,  which,  passing  down- 
wards, cut  clean  off  his- " 

And  here  the  Chamberlain  paused  for  a  moment 
to  take  a  pinch  of  fine  Roumelian  snuff. 

"  I  perfectly  understand  you — perfectly,"  said 
Louise,  looking  as  if  she  had  heard  some  shocking 
story  ;  "  pray  say  no  more,  it  will  be  quite  sufficiently 
dreadful  to  have  to  look  at  him  when  he  comes." 

"  The  Lord  High  Chamberlain  is  required  by  His 
Majesty,"  said  a  servant  entering  the  room  at  this 
instant.  The  Chamberlain  obeyed  at  once.  And 
though  while  assisting  His  Majesty  to  pull  off  the 
royal  top-boots  he  wondered  to  himself  what  it  was 
that  Louise  had  taken  into  her  head  about  the  Baron 


1 66  FIVE  DAYS'  ENTERTAINMENTS 


Senefif,  yet  the  important  duty  in  which  he  was  en- 
gaged soon  drove  the  whole  conversation  out  of  his 
memory. 

Louise  ran  off  with  her  budget  of  news  to  the 
waitincr-room,  where  the  Maids  of  Honour  and  the 
chief  Officers  belonging  to  the  Court  were  wont  to 
assemble. 

'*  News  !  news  ! "  she  cried.  "  The  new  General 
in  Charge  will  be  here  this  afternoon ;  but,"  she 
added,  in  a  cheerful  tone,  "  there  is  one  shocking 
thing  about  him — you  will  never  guess  what — he  has 
got   no " 

And  here  Louise  took  out  her  embroidered  pocket- 
handkerchief. 

"  No  wJiatf'  said  the  First  Usher,  Count  Moucheron, 
in  a  tone  of  deep  anxiety. 

"  No  nothing — I  really  cannot  say  what,"  replied 
Louise,  who  was  suffering  under  a  severe  cold,  ap- 
plying her  handkerchief  to  its  natural  duty. 

"■  No  I  see  what,"  said  the  Usher,  taking  a  pinch  of 
snuff. 

"  This,  I  suppose,"  said  Clementine  de  I'Epinglerie, 
holding  up  the  back  of  a  letter,  on  which  she  had 
sketched  an  outstretched  hand,  the  thumb  of  which 
was  placed  against  the  lower  point  of  a  small 
triangle. 

"  No  ivJiat  ?  "  said  the  Countess  Lady  of  the  Bed- 
chamber— almost  with  a  scream. 


THE  MAN  WITHOUT  A  NOSE  1 67 


'  ."  Allow  me  to  offer  you — a  pleasure  which  you  are 
happily  not  incapacitated  from  enjoying,"  replied  the 
First  Usher,  gravely,  as  he  first  tapped  and  thru 
opened  the  lid  of  his  jewel-set  snuff-box. 

"  Bless  me — I  beg  your  Highness's  pardon  — indeed 
I  do,"  cried  the  Usher,  as  the  Countess  sneezed 
violently,  and  the  Maids  of  Honour  all  sneezed  at  the 
same  moment  in  sympathy.  "  I  must  have  taken  my 
mustard-pot  snuff-box,  as  His  Majesty  calls  it,  by 
mistake." 

"  You  cannot  wish  nic  surely  to  be  without — 
without  a — you  know  what,"  said  the  Lady,  in  a 
sagacious  tone.  *'  But  what  are  you  sketching  there, 
Clementine  t "  added  she,  taking  the  paper  from 
her  hand  with  an  inquisitive  air.  "  And  here  it  is, 
by  good  luck,"  said  Eleanor  :  holding  up  a  sheet  of 
paper. 

"  Just  think"  said  Clementine,  "that  when  Nature 
has  provided  so  many,  in  her  pomp  and  prodigality, 

that  he  should   have neither  the  true  Grecian  fi) 

(such  as  Venus  had) ;  nor  the  genuine  Pug  (2)  ;  nor 
the  Roman  (3) ;  nor  the  W-11-ngt-n  (4)  ;  nor  the 
Hebrew  (5)  ;  nor  the  Cockney  (6) ;  nor  the  Withered 
(7)  (even  that  would  be  better  then  none) ;  nor  the 
R-y-1  (8)  that  we   see   on   old    half-pence  ;    nor   my 

Lord  B m  (9)  ;    nor  the  Michelangelo-esque  (10) 

(though  that  was  produced  by  accident)  ;  nor  even 
the  Witch's  (11). 


1 68  FIVE  DAYS'  ENTERTAINMENTS 


"  Why,  he  is  a  Witch  in  armour,  I  am  convinced/ 
said  the  First  Usher. 

*'  Could  it  not  possibly  be  mended — restored,  I  mean  ?' 


CLEMENTINE'S   SKETCH 

said  the  sprightly  young  La  Juliers,  the  Queen's 
favourite  Maid  of  Honour.  "  I  have  heard  of  wax 
being  employed  with  success  in  such  cases." 


THE  AfAN  WITHOUT  A  NOSE  169 


•'  Not  in  so  hot  a  climate  as  Hungary,  I  believe," 
answered  the  First  Usher.  "Think  for  a  moment:  it 
might  run  clown." 

"  Oh — my  Lord  !— oh  !  "  screamed  the  Maids  of 
Honour  together :  ''  that  would  be  too  shocking 
to  contemplate." 

*'  I  shall  insist  on  his  wearing  a  mask,"  said  the 
Countess,  gravely.  ''  He  will  not  suffer  any  incon- 
venience ;  there  may  be  holes  for  the  eyes,  mouth, 
and " 

"  Those  w'ill  be  sufficient,"  said  the  Usher,  taking  up 
the  sentence. 

"  I  have  news  for  you  all,"  said  Her  Majesty,  enter- 
ing the  room  at  this  moment,  with  a  gracious  smile  ; 
"  news  that  will  please  you.  Our  new  Commanding 
Officer  of  the  Household  Troops,  Baron  Seneff,  will 
be  here  this  afternoon.  He  must  be  treated  with 
great  respect,  for  he  is  altogether  an  extraordinary 
character,  and  I  regret  that  no  apartment  has  yet 
been  provided  for  him.  But  an  old  soldier,  like  the 
Baron,  who  has  gone  through  so  much  rough  work, 
and  has  no " 

"  No — no  ; — is  it  really  so  }  "  exclaimed  the  Lady 
of  the  Bedchamber  in  her  tremulous  quaver. 

"  No  objection  to  the  makeshift  quarters ;  must  put 
up  with  a  temporary  bedroom  for  the  night,"  con- 
tinued the  Queen,  gravely,  signing  to  the  Ladies  present 
to  accompany  her  to  her  dressing-room.     Press-doors 


70  FIVE  DA  YS'  ENTERTAINMENTS 


and  cabinets  were  now  opened;  the  mirror  was  placed 
on  a  table ;  the  table  was  drawn  out  into  the  middle 
of  the  room,  and  the  Maids  of  Honour  began  their 
work. 

"  Have  you  heard  what  about  the  Baron?"  whispered 
La  Juliers,  as  she  knelt  down  on  the  Queen's  left,  and 
gathering  up  in  her  hand  half  Her  Majesty's  behind- 
hair,  began  to  braid  it. 

"  Yes,  has  your  Majesty  heard  what  ? "  ariswered 
Clementine  from  the  right,  unconsciously  bringing  the 
tip  of  her  forefinger  to  her  nose  as  she  spoke.  **  I 
mean  no  impoliteness,"  added  she,  hastily,  noticing  a 
slight  frown  on  the  Queen's  forehead.  "  I  mean  no 
impoliteness  ;  I  beg  for  pardon,  but  the  Baron " 

"  What  is  all  this  about  }  "  said  the  Queen,  looking 
hastily  round  to  the  right,  to  La  Juliers'  great  dis- 
comfiture. 

'*  The  Baron  has,"  said  La  Juliers. 

''  He  has  no ,"  said  La  Cheveuse. 

"  It  is  too  shocking  to  take  the  entire  responsibility 
of  informing  your  Majesty  on  one's  self,"  said  Louise. 

"  Could  not  you  divide  the  sin  .'' "  asked  the  Queen, 
gravely. 

"  We  might  quarter  it,  perhaps,  please  your  Majesty, 
and  then  it  would  be  next  to  no  sin  at  all,"  answered 
she. 

''  He  has  no  N,"  whispered  Clementine. 

'•  He  has  no  O,"  said  Louise. 


THE  MAN  WITHOUT  A  NOSE  I71 


"  He  has  no  S,"  said  Clementine  again,  with  greater 
confidence. 

"  He  has  no  K,"  said  La  Juliers. 

**  Pardon  me,  he  has  no  Nose,"  said  Louise,  falHng 
on  her  knees  before  the  Queen,  and  hiding  the  centre 
of  her  own  face  with  both  hands. 

'*  Is  that  all  ? "  said  the  Queen,  examining  herself 
carefully  in  the  glass. 

"What  can  Louise  mean.''"  thought  the  Queen, 
as  she  sat  down  to  dinner ;  and  for  the  first  course  she 
thought  of  nothing  else,  and  preserved  an  absolute 
silence,  which  has  never  been  known  to  happen  since 
in  Hungary. 

"  I  am  sorry  to  hear  your  Majesty's  new  Guardship 
has  lost  her  bowsprit  in  the  last  storm,"  said  Louise, 
wishing  to  break  the  silence. 

*  **  What  can  she  mean } "  thought  the  King  to  him- 
self, "  Hungary  has  no  more  sea-ports  than  Bohemia." 

"  May  I  help  your  Majesty  to  some  pig's  face  t " 
said  the  Lord  Chamberlain. 

"  Pardon  me,  No,"  said  she,  ''  I  will  take  a  little 
nose." 

And  no  one  knew  how,  but  so  it  was,  that  the 
conversation  for  the  rest  of  dinner-time  ran  entirely 
on  the  subject  of  elephants. 

It  was  late  at  night  before  Baron  Senefi"  reached 
the  palace.     His  carriage  had   broken  down  on   the 


172  FIVE  DA  YS'  ENTER  TAINMENTS 


road,  and  several  hours  were  thus  lost,  to  his  great 
annoyance.  He  consequently  determined  that  he 
would  not  present  himself  to  the  King  that  evening, 
but  would  wait  till  next  morning  to  explain  the 
reason  of  his  delay.  And  so,  without  calling  up 
any  of  the  Court,  he  retired  quietly  to  his  own 
room. 

Within  two  hours  the  King  was  roused  from  sleep 
by  the  sound  of  knocking  at  his  door.  "  How  loud 
the  Queen  snores  to-night,"  thought  he,  waking ;  ''  I 
will  not  disturb  her."  So  he  lay  still,  and  softly  called 
out  to  the  unknown  visitor  to  enter.  But  at  this 
moment  the  Queen  awoke,  and  they  both  saw  a  tall 
figure  take  his  place  at  the  foot  of  the  bed  between 
the  curtains. 

"  It  is  I — it  is  the  Baron  Seneff,"  said  the  unknown, 
gently  ;  and  as  he  spoke,  the  moonbeams  fell  brightly 
upon  his  countenance. 

'*  It  is  his  ghost,"  whispered  Her  Majesty;  "but  no 
matter,  the  missing  member  has  been  mercifully 
restored  to  its  place  after  death." 

"  I  have  a  remarkably  good  nose/'  continued  the 
Baron. 

''  Don't  be  alarmed,"  said  the  King,  as  his  wife 
shuddered  and  grasped  the  bedclothes. 

*'  I  have  a  remarkably  sharp  nose,"  repeated  the 
Baron,  "  and  I  am  convinced  that  there  is  fire  some- 
where in  the  palace.     I  beg  pardon  of  your  Majesties 


THE  MAN  WITHOUT  A  NOSE  I  73 


for  my  intrusion,  but  I  thought  it  riglit  to  make  you 
first  aware  of  the  danger." 

"It  is  enough,"  answered  the  King.  "  It  is  not  the 
first  service  you  have  rendered  me."  Then  rising, 
and  hastily  throwing  on  a  robe,  he  accompanied  the 
Baron  through  the  empty  passages  of  the  palace. 

At  every  step  the  peculiar  odour  of  fire — an  odour 
which  none  can  forget  who  have  ever  known  it, 
increased,  till  the  King  was  no  less  aware  of  its 
reality  than  his  more  acutely-gifted  attendant.  It 
appeared  to  proceed  from  the  apartments  of  the  Maids 
of  Honour,  and  the  King  and  the  Baron  knocked 
loudly  at  the  door.  Louise  first  showed  her  face. 
"  I  smell  fire  here,"  said  the  King.  **  I  cannot  per- 
ceive it,"  ansv/ered  Louise.  **  Do  you  ?  "  added  she  to 
the  Baron,  whom  she  had  never  seen  before,  and  did 
not  recognize.  "As  clearly  as  I  should  smell  garlic 
in  Spain,"  said  he,  bowing,  with  a  courteous  air. 

But  at  this  moment  a  wreath  of  smoke  found  its 
way  from  behind  through  the  door,  and  brought 
tears  into  the  eyes  of  Louise.  No  further  doubt 
could  be  left  on  the  matter.  "  Fire  !  Fire  !  "  she 
screamed  out  vigorously.  The  rest  of  the  Ladies 
called  out  in  their  turn,  and  directly  presented  them- 
selves in  a  state  of  confusion  and  disarray,  which 
made  it  hard  for  the  Baron,  even  with  all  his  courtesy 
and  all  his  sense  of  danger,  not  to  smile  outright. 
Clementine  in  particular,  whose  ancles  were  not  her 


1 74  FIVE  DA  YS'  ENTERTAINMENTS 


strong  point,  ran  out  with  nothing  on  but  one  sHpper 
and  the  window-blind,  which  she  had  torn  down  in 
her  fright  :  .  .  .  but  it  would  not  be  fair  for  me  to 
tell  all  about  it.  The  servants  were  summoned,  and, 
hastening  to  the  Ladies'  sitting  room,  they  found 
the  curtains  and  other  hangings  in  a  blaze.  The 
Baron  exerted  himself  first  among  the  foremost,  and 
in  an  hour  all  further  cause  of  fear  had  ceased. 

Next  morning  the  Ladies  assembled  in  the  break- 
fast-room to  await  the  entrance  of  their  Majesties. 
They  were  all  flutter  and  confusion,  and  began  to 
talk  over  what  had  happened  in  the  most  cheerful 
manner.  Every  one  had  a  different  reason  to  account 
for  the  fire,  but  no  one  could  settle  who  the  person 
was  to  whom  their  escape  was  due. 

"  How  lucky  it  was  that  she  smelt  it  so  soon  !  She 
must  have  had  a  remarkably  fine  nose,"  said  Louise. 

"  Perhaps  it  was  not  a  she,  but  a  he,"  remarked 
La  Juliers,  thoughtfully;  "men  are  such  strange 
creatures." 

"  I  can  tell  nothing  about  it,"  remarked  Clementine, 
"  I  am  sure,  I  was  so  thoroughly  blinded." 

"■  So  you  certainly  were  !  "  shrieked  Louise  ;  "  but 
never  mind,  we  will  have  the  window  put  right 
to-day." 

The  only  sad  face  was  that  of  the  Lady  of  the 
Bedchamber.  "■  I  have  lost  my  amber  snuff-box, 
which  the  esteemed  Count,  my  late  husband,  gave  me 


THE  MAN  WITHOUT  A  NOSE  1 75 


on  his  dcath-bcd  as  a  token  of  eternal  affection," 
said  she,  deploringly.  "The  servants  found  it  in  the 
room  this  mornini^  ;  but,  alas,  it  is  cracked  across  the 
bottom." 

"Shocking — shocking,  indeed!"  exclaimed  the 
Maids  of  Honour  together. 

**  It  is  a  loss  which  would  not  fall  very  heavily  on 
the  Baron  Seneff,  however,"  said  Louise,  archly.  "  I 
wonder  why  he  has  not  come." 

"  Hush,  hush,"  said  the  Countess,  as  the  King  and 
Queen  entered. 

**  We  have  one  request  to  make,"  said  the  Lady  of 
the  Bedchamber  immediately,  kneeling  down  before 
the  King:  "  It  is  that  your  Majesty  would  reward 
that  brave  gentleman  who  saved  our  lives  last 
night  by  appointing  him  General  of  your  Guard." 

"  We  have  much  reason  to  implore  it,"  said  Louise  ; 
*'  his  good  nose  saved  us  all." 

*'  We  are  sure  your  Majesty  will  not  be  safe  with 
the  Baron,"  said  La  Juliers. 

"  If  you  value  the  life  of  an  old  and  attached 
servant,  you  will  appoint  an  officer  who — who — can 
smell,"  said  the  Lady  of  the  Bedchamber. 

"  I  have  much  pleasure  in  granting  your  wishes," 
said  the  King,  gravely ;  "  indeed,  they  are  already- 
granted.  The  General  whom  I  have  appointed,  not 
only,  as  all  the  world  knows,  showed  his  strength  at 
the  battle  of  Kutumoff,  by  dividing  at  one  stroke  a 


I  76  FIVE  DA  YS'  ENTERTAINMENTS 


ferocious  Turk,  who  had  aimed  at  his  face,  and  cut 
off  thereby  the  Baron's  entire  moustache — which  he 
reasonably  regarded  as  an  insult — but  he  has  also, 
last  night,  by  the  saving  of  our  lives,  given  proof 
that  sharp  as  his  sword  may  be,  his  nose  is  still 
sharper — Usher,  call  in  the  General  Baron  Seneff!" 

The  children  all  laughed  at  the  close  of  Eleanor's 
story.  "  Foolish  child,"  said  Mrs.  Wentworth,  laugh- 
ing herself:  "  where  did  you  pick  up  all  that  nonsense, 
child  ?     Whose  turn  is  next  .'*  " 

"  Charley  knows,  I  daresay,"  cried  Eleanor,  archly. 

"  It  is  mine,"  answered  he,  with  an  extremely  grave 
and,  if  I  may  so  say,  disheartened  countenance.  "  I 
wish  I  had  anything  funny  to  tell :  but  animals  never 
laugh,  so  far  as  I  know." 

"  Our  cat  laughs,  sometimes,"  said  Lucy.  **  Do  you 
know,  she  came  to  us  from  Cheshire — I  could  tell 
you  such  a  funny  story  about  that." 

"Another  time  ! "  said  Mrs.  Wentworth,  as  Charles, 
recovering  confidence,  began  his  story. 


THE  THREE  RAVENS  I  77 


CHARLES'S  FOURTH  TALE 

THE   THREE   RAVENS 

There  was  a  gentleman,  whose  wife  was  dead,  and 
who  lived  with  his  Httle  daughter  Catherine,  whom 
he  dearly  loved,  in  the  country.  Now  it  so  happened 
that  on  Catherine's  eighth  birthday,  besides  the 
present  of  a  beautiful  copy  of  "  Robinson  Crusoe,"  and 
of  a  large  new  writing-desk,  which  she  received  from 
her  kind  father,  a  large  hamper,  directed  to  her- 
self alone,  came  to  the  house.  Such  a  thing  had 
never  happened  before  :  and  Catherine  ran  directly 
to  call  their  servant  Richard,  and  to  beg  him  to  open 
it  for  her,  as  it  was  firml}'  tied  up  with  thick  cord. 
She  danced  round  him  with  joy  all  the  while  he  was 
at  work  cutting  the  fastenings  :  when  suddenly  the 
lid  went  up  of  itself,  and  out  jumped  a  beautiful  little 
spaniel  dog,  who  directly  ran  up  to  Catherine,  and 
began  licking  her  hands  and  frisking  about  her  in  the 
prettiest  way  that  ever  was  seen.  ''  There's  some- 
thing else.  Miss  Catherine,"  said  Richard,  who  did  not 
appear  altogether  satisfied  with  the  sight  of  the  spaniel. 
Catherine  put  her  hand  carefully  into  the  straw  with 
which  the  hamper  was  filled,  and  presently  pulled 
out  something  large,  and  dark,  and  heavy,  which  she 

N 


I  78  FIVE  DA  YS'  ENTERTAINMENTS 

did  not  need  any  one  to  tell  her  was  a  great  plum- 
cake.  "  It's  all  for  me — it's  all  for  me  ! "  she  cried  ; 
and  then  presently,  in  a  lower  voice,  "  But  I  shall  give 
you,  and  Nurse,  and  Papa  a  bit."  Richard  fetched 
a  knife,  and  cut  the  cake  up  :  and  Catherine  gave 
him  a  piece,  and  ran  off  with  the  rest  to  the  nursery. 
But  the  cake  was  so  large,  that  after  she  had  given 
away  some  to  her  Papa  and  Nurse,  and  to  her  little 
spaniel,  and  had  eaten  quite  as  much  as  was  good  for 
herself,  more  than  half  was  left :  and  this  she  took  to 
her  own  little  bedroom  and  put  carefully  away  within 
her  new  desk,  which  was  like  some  gentlemen's 
libraries,  and  pretended  to  hold  much  graver  things 
than  you  really  find  there. 

But  Richard,  the  servant,  was  a  wicked,  greedy 
man,  who  thought  only  of  pleasing  himself,  and  did 
not  care  whether  he  did  so  honestly  or  not.  And 
so,  when  evening  came,  he  stole  quietly  upstairs^  and 
hunted  about  until  he  found  out  where  the  cake  was 
kept :  and  then  he  carried  it  off  from  Miss  Catherine's 
desk  and  locked  it  up  in  a  box  in  his  own  room. 

The  moment  Catherine  awoke  next  morning  she 
went  to  her  desk,  and  she  could  hardly  believe  her 
eyes  when  she  found  it  empty :  not  a  crumb  of  the 
precious  cake  remaining.  Poor  child  !  she  fairly  burst 
out  crying,  and  ran  down  to  tell  her  father  what  had 
happened. 

Her  father  was  very  sorry  :  he  caused  a  search  to 


THE  THREE  RA  VENS  I  79 

be  made  in  all  directions  :  but  nothing  was  discovered  ; 
and  he  had  no  thought  of  Richard's  dishonesty.  So 
Catherine  began  playing  with  Ponto — for  so  she  had 
called  her  little  spaniel — and  presently  forgot  the 
disappointment  of  the  lost  treasure.  The  luncheon- 
bell  rang,  and  the  servant  came  into  the  room  to  lay 
the  cloth  and  make  things  ready.  Presently  up  went 
Catherine  to  her  Papa  with  a  very  long  face.  "  Oh, 
Papa,  Papa,"  she  cried,  "  what  shall  I  do !  Ponto  will 
not  play  with  me  any  longer.  Do  call  him  away 
from  Richard."  '*  Ponto,  Ponto  !  "  cried  he  ;  but  Ponto 
liked  running  between  the  servant's  legs  and  jump- 
ing up  at  his  coat-tails  better  than  anything  else ; 
though  Richard's  surly  "  Down,  pup  !  "  gave  clear  proof 
that  he  quite  agreed  with  his  master  on  the  subject. 

Ponto,  though  quite  aware  that  he  ought  to  obey 
his  master,  yet,  like  many  other  people,  thought  he 
might  venture  to  do  what  he  wished  when  he  had  a 
good  reason  for  disobedience.  He  poked  his  long, 
pickpocket  muzzle  into  Richard's  coat,  and  no  doubt 
thought  he  was  making  himself  very  agreeable  to  his 
little  mistress  when,  wagging  his  tail  with  exquisite 
good  humour,  he  ran  up  and  dropped  at  her  feet,  by 
way  of  acceptable  present,  a  large  slice  of  her  own — 
own — her  very  own  plum-cake  !  You  will  all  guess 
how  Richard  came  by  it :  but  the  dear  little  one,  sus- 
pecting no  evil,  and  thinking  it  was  the  piece  she  had 
given  Richard  the  day  before,  ran  to  carry  it  back  to 

N   2 


l8o  FIVE  DAYS'  ENTERTAINMENTS 


him.  Her  instinct,  however  (for  so  we  must  call  it), 
was  less  correct  than  her  father's  reasoning.  For, 
observing  the  servant  blush  and  hastily  leave  the 
room,  the  truth  at  once  flashed  on  his  mind.  He  sent 
Catherine  to  the  nursery,  and  calling  Richard  back, 
charged  him  with  the  theft. 

Perceiving  that  he  had  no  chance  of  escape,  Richard 
at  cnce  confessed  what  he  had  done,  and  begged  hard 
for  pardon. 

"  You  must  leave  my  house  this  day,"  said  his 
master,  firmly.  "  But  as  you  have  not  attempted  to 
conceal  your  hishonesty,  by  adding  falsehood  to  theft, 
you  shall  receive  no  further  punishment.  And  I  hope 
that  I  may  never  need  to  make  known  what  has 
happened  to  any  one,  in  case  I  hear  that  in  your 
future  life  you  try  to  make  amends  for  your  sin  by 
true  and  sincere  repentance." 

Richard's  conscience  smote  him :  he  knew  this  was 
by  no  means  his  first  act  of  theft;  and  justly  suspect- 
ing that  his  master  was  aware  of  his  dishonesty,  he 
attempted  no  further  excuses,  but  left  the  house 
without  delay. 

"  I  am  sure  that  naughty  thief  should  have  been 
well  punished,"  cried  one  of  the  little  boys,  bursting  in 
on  Charles's  story.     ''  I  would  not  have  let  him  off !  " 

"  But  is  that  all .'' "  said  Lucy,  imploringly. 

'*  Not  quite,"  replied  Charles.  "  But  for  my  part  I 
think  the  master  did  what  was  both  kind  and  right  in 


THE  THREE  RAVENS  l8l 

j^ivint^  his  servant  a  chance  to  regain  liis  character. 
For,  *  Use  every  man  after  his  deserts,  and  who  shall 
'scape  whipping  ? '  And  there  is  nothing  that  so 
hardens  a  man  in  sin,  as  the  belief  that  he  has  sinned 
past  forgiveness.  Many  poor  young  things  have  been 
turned  to  bad  for  life,  because  they  were  not  kindly 
and  Christianly  forgiv^en  for  one  first  wrong  thing. 
And  even  if  the  sinner  should  not  after  all  give  proof 
that  he  is  sorry,  I  do  not  think  that  any  one  would 
find  cause  to  repent  himself,  if,  like  Richard's  master, 
he  has  forgiven  where  he  might  have  gone  further  in 
punishment,  and  allowed  charity  to  have  the  last 
word," 

But,  whilst  I  am  talking,  several  years  are  running 
by  in  the  course  of  my  story,  during  which  Catherine, 
whom  we  left  a  little  girl,  was  growing  up  out  of  child- 
hood to  be  the  pride  and  the  delight  of  her  father. 
Richard,  too,  seemed  to  have  profited  by  time,  and  to 
have  repented  of  his  former  conduct.  In  a  village 
many  miles  distant  from  his  master  s  house  he  had  set 
up  a  little  inn,  where  he  bore  a  fair  character  in  the 
eyes  of  men,  and  prospered  accordingly.  And  I  think 
that  nothing  in  his  whole  life  gave  his  master  so  deep 
a  pleasure  as  to  learn  that  his  kindness  towards  his 
servant  did  not  appear  to  have  been  altogether  thrown 
away. 

Now  it  happened  at  last  that  business  called  him 
up   to   London ;    and   as  his  road   lay  that   way,  he 


I  82  FIVE  DAYS'  ENTERTAINMENTS 

determined  to  stop  for  the  night  at  the  Three  Ravens, 
and  show  Richard  that  his  trust  in  him  was  fully 
restored.  So,  taking  with  him  as  much  money  as  he 
thought  would  be  required  for  his  business,  he,  Cathe- 
rine, and  Ponto  set  out  on  their  journey,  and  reached 
the  inn  towards  nightfall.  Richard  was  glad  to  see  his 
old  master,  and  for  a  few  minutes,  I  believe,  he  felt 
really  grateful  to  him  for  his  kindness.  He  fetched  a 
bottle  of  his  best  wine  for  their  dinner :  and  whilst  it 
was  making  ready,  he  pointed  out  to  Catherine — the  in- 
quisitive young  creature — the  tall  elm-tree  in  front  of 
the  house,  on  which  were  the  nests  of  the  three  ravens 
who  had  given  their  name  to  the  inn,  and  whose 
likenesses,  painted  on  the  signboard,  were  at  that 
moment  swinging  and  creaking  dolefully  in  the  wind, 
before  the  entrance. 

But  when  night  came  on,  and  his  guests  had  gone 
to  their  bedrooms,  Richard's  old  evil  thoughts,  which 
he  had  never  truly  prayed  might  be  taken  from  his 
heart,  came  back  to  him.  He  felt  full  of  anger  at  the 
poor  spaniel,  who  had  been,  so  he  thought,  the  only 
cause  of  the  discovery  of  his  theft ;  and  he  was  ready 
to  take  any  way  to  be  avenged  on  him.  Evil  thoughts 
rarely  come  alone. 

"  My  master  never  goes  up  to  London  without  a 
large  sum  of  money,"  was  the  next ;  *'  but  I  can  never 
get  at  it  whilst  that  dog  is  in  the  way." 

But  then  again  his  conscience,  not  quite  seared,  told 


THE  THREE  RAVENS  I  83 

him  how  <^rcat  a  sin  this  would  be  ;  and  lie  lay  tossin<^ 
on  his  bed  for  some  hours  in  uncertainty,  till  the 
temptation  at  last  prevailed.  But  he  would  only 
drown  the  dog — he  thought ;  as  for  the  money,  he 
would  leave  that  alone, — and  so  he  quieted  his  con- 
science. For  sin,  when  a  man  has  once  admitted  it 
to  his  thoughts,  and  as  it  were  held  conversation  with 
it,  never  lets  him  rest  ;  and  even  if  he  does  not  alto- 
gether yield,  yet  it  drives  a  very  hard  bargain  with 
him. 

And  so  it  w^as  with  Richard.  Quietly  he  stole  from 
his  bed,  and  quietly  he  called  Ponto  from  his  master's 
door,  outside  which  he  was  sleeping.  Then  taking 
the  dog  in  his  arms,  he  ran  quickly  with  him  down  to 
a  pond  at  the  bottom  of  the  garden  :  and  then  picking 
up  a  large  stone,  with  trembling  fingers  he  tied  it 
round  the  poor  spaniel's  neck,  and  with  a  single  heave 
flung  him  into  the  middle  of  the  water.  Down  poor 
old  Ponto  went  with  a  heavy  plunge,  which  made  the 
wicked  servant  start  for  terror.  What  would  he  not 
have  given  at  that  moment,  not  to  have  done  what  he 
had  done  1  But  it  was  too  late.  In  the  dawning 
light  he  saw  the  ripples  circle  round  and  round  on  the 
surface  for  a  moment,  and  then  all  was  still  as  before. 
Richard  felt  like  a  guilty  thing  before  the  light ;  and 
yet  he  saw  the  light  with  pleasure,  for  it  put  all  further 
temptation  away  from  him.  He  crept  back  to  his 
house  and  waited  with  impatience  till  morning  should 


I  84  FIVE  DA  YS'  ENTERTAINMENTS 

come,  and  his  master  should  set  forth  on  his  journey. 
But  when  morning  came,  and  Catherine  and  her 
father  made  ready  to  start,  Ponto  was  missing.  High 
and  low  they  hunted ;  but  in  vain.  At  last  they 
thought  the  dog  must  have  strayed  homewards,  and 
they  sent  Richard,  who  was  glad  to  be  out  of  their 
sight,  with  orders  to  search  the  road  over  which  they 
had  travelled  the  day  before.  And  Catherine's  kind 
father,  putting  off  his  journey,  promised  that  he  would 
wait  for  a  day  or  two  to  see  whether  Ponto  could  not 
be  recovered. 

But  it  was  not  to  be  so ;  and  yet  it  was  to  be  so — 
though  in  a  way  which  no  one  would  have  thought  of. 

Richard  returned  at  nightfall,  with  no  news  of  the 
dog.  Catherine  shed  many  tears  ;  and  she  and  her 
father  went  to  bed  with  a  strange,  sad  feeling.  And 
then  the  temptation  to  the  robbery  came  over 
Richard's  mind  with  strength  greater  than  before. 
He  got  up,  and  walked  up  and  down  in  the  garden, 
trying  to  gain  courage  for  the  crime.  At  last  he 
came  to  the  edge  of  the  pond  ;  and  as  he  stood  look- 
ing at  it  he  thought, 

*'  No  one  will  ever  discover  it.  I  must  finish  what 
I  have  begun." 

But  at  this  moment  a  loud  clanging  sound  in  the 
air  startled  him  ;  and  he  almost  fainted  for  fear,  as, 
looking  round,  he  saw  the  three  ravens,  flying  with 
their  dark  outspread  wings,  in  a  straight  line,  direct 


THE  THREE  RA  VENS  1 85 


to  the  centre  of  the  water.  Their  keen  scent  had 
taught  them  that  there  was  sometliing  there  which 
might  be  their  prey,  and  round  and  round  they 
wheeled,  loudly  cawing,  and  ever  and  anon  touching 
the  surface  with  their  wings,  till  the  water  glittered  in 
the  moonlight.  Richard's  heart  sank  within  liini. 
He  flung  stones,  and  tried  hard  to  chase  the  ravens 
from  the  spot,  but  to  no  purpose  :  round  and  round 
they  still  circled,  and  Richard  even  fancied  that  the 
pebbles  he  threw  were  turned  aside  by  some  invisible 
hand,  so  that  they  should  not  touch  them.  He  even 
was  not  quite  sure  that  he  did  not  hear  something 
very  near  him  call  his  name.  His  eyesight  swam  : 
his  strength  failed  him,  and  he  fell  fainting  by  the 
water's  edge. 

When  morning  came  again,  and  the  master  of  the 
inn  was  nowhere  to  be  found,  every  one  was  in  great 
alarm.  Catherine's  father  and  the  servants  went 
searching  hither  and  thither  ;  and  as  the  pond  was 
at  no  great  distance  from  the  house,  it  was  not  long 
before  they  observed  something  dark  lying  on  the 
ground  by  its  edge.  As  their  footsteps  were  heard, 
Richard  awoke  from  his  fainting  fit,  and  stammered 
out  some  excuses  for  the  state  in  which  they  now 
found  him.  I  believe  he  said  he  had  been  drinking  ! 
What  a  base  coward  does  sin  make  of  a  man,  that  he 
should  think  it  the  best  thing  he  can  do,  to  say  he 
has  been  making  a  beast  of  himself,  and  that  also  a 


I  86  FIVE  DAYS'  ENTERTAINMENTS 

lie  !  But  his  old  master  could  not  but  see  in  his 
guilty  face  that  there  was  something  wrong  yet  un- 
discovered, and  he  immediacely  sent  for  the  police 
officers. 

On  hearing  this,  Richard  trembled,  and  loudly 
denied  that  he  had  done  it ;  but  the  words  were 
scarcely  said  before  he  turned  pale  with  fear,  for  again 
the  loud  cry  of  the  ravens  was  heard  in  the  air  above 
them. 

"  Oh,  Papa,"  screamed  Catherine,  who  was  standing 
by,  "  look  at  those  birds  !  See  how  they  fly  round  and 
round  the  water ;  there  must  be  something  beneath 
it — I  am  sure  there  must  !" 

Every  one  turned  to  Richard,  who  sank  down  on 
his  knees  before  them,  and,  scarcely  knowing  what  he 
said,  murmured  out  his  evil  deeds  and  intentions,  and 
did  not  even  dare  to  ask  forgiveness  for  the  crime  he 
had  committed. 

Catherine  and  her  father,  astonished  at  the  wicked- 
ness of  their  fellow-creature,  and  overcome  with  grief, 
were  silent.  At  last,  turning  to  the  officers,  who  had 
now  arrived,  with  a  look  of  sorrow  and  anger  which 
none  who  saw  it  could  ever  forget,  he  signed  to  them 
to  take  the  wretched  man  to  prison. 

"  Oh,  forgive  him — forgive  him  this  once  ! "  cried 
Catherine,  in  tears.     A  murmur  arose  in  the  crowd. 

''  No,  dear  child,"  said  her  father,  *'  it  cannot  be  so, 
and  it  should  not  be  so.     It  has  been  so  willed,  that 


THE   YOUNG  QUIXOTE  I  87 

sin  should,  even  here,  at  times  meet  with  punishment. 
What  we  have  seen  to-day  may  no  one  present 
ever  forget  !  It  is  indeed  a  sign  to  warn  us 
all.  For  this  man  thought  to  have  concealed  his 
crime,  so  that  none  should  see  it ;  but  God  has  sent 
his  messengers,  and  the  ravens  of  the  air  have 
shown  it." 

At  the  conclusion  of  Charles's  tale,  the  children 
were  all  silent,  and  some  minutes  passed  before  the 
next  speaker  began  his  story. 


ARTHUR'S    FOURTH    TALE 

THE  YOUNG  QUIXOTE 

In  a  village  in  Yorkshire,  the  name  of  which  I  can- 
not precisely  remember,  was  born,  some  eighteen  or 
twenty  years  since,  a  boy  named  Augustus  Talbot. 
His  father  was  at  the  time  of  his  birth  already  an 
old  man,  and  he  came  of  an  old  family,  to  which  an  old 
baronet's  title  belonged.  He  lived  in  an  old  Manor- 
house  ;  dined  at  the  old  hour  of  One,  in  company 
with  his  old  friends  drank  old  wine,  and  was  in  all 
ways  a  specimen  of  the  good  Old  English  Gentleman, 
only,  unfortunately,  not  of  the  olden  time.  As  his 
}-oung  son  and  heir  grew  up,  what  he  heard  and  saw 


1 88  FIVE  DA  YS'  ENTERTAINMENTS 

about  him  wrought  powerfully  on  his  mind ;  and 
Augustus,  too,  became  old  before  his  time.  He  would 
read  for  hours  the  books  which  he  found  in  the 
library  of  the  old  house — dusty  chronicles,  potmS  in 
blactv  letter,  and  stories  on  ghosts  and  witches,  till  he 
believed  in  them  as  firmly  as  King  James  the  First 
himself,  and  with  quite  as  much  reason. 

His  father,  who  was  a  sensible  man,  with  prejudices, 
was  much  vexed  to  see  the  turn  which  his  son  was 
taking,  and  he  would  often  talk  with  him  on  the 
subject,  and  give  him  good  advice,  which  had  as 
much  effect  as  other  parents'  good  advice  generally 
has  on  their  children. 

''  How  I  wish  I  had  been  born  in  the  merry  days 
of  old  England,"  Augustus  would  say,  "  when  a  gen- 
tleman kept  open  house  and  hospitality,  and  dined  in 
state  with  his  tenants  and  followers  about  him  ;  when 
the  only  partition-wall  between  the  servants'-hall  and 
the  dining-hall  was  the  salt-cellar,  as  we  read  of  in 
the  old  chronicles.  Then  rich  were  not  separated 
from  poor,  or  poor  from  rich ;  and,  indeed,  with  the 
abundant  charity  of  those  days,  I  hardly  see  how 
there  could  have  been  poverty." 

Such  arguments  his  father  could  not  answer.  So 
he  would  say,  "  All  that  may  be  true,  Augustus ;  but 
as  for  what  you  were  saying  about  old  England,  why, 
time  g:oes  on,  and  if  that  was  old  Engrland,  this  must 
be  older  England,  so  far  as  I  can  see." 


THE   YOUNG  QUIXOTE  1 89 


"  Older  and  worse,"  his  son  would  answer.  "  Many 
sciences  and  arts  of  those  times  are  now  utterly  lost, 
and  even  contemptuously  spoken  of.  Where  is  the 
knowledge  of  the  future,  which  men  then  possessed  } 
A  thousand  signs,  omens,  and  auguries  then  prophesied 
to  them  of  the  good  or  ill-luck  of  any  business  they 
were  engaged  in.  Rightly  did  they  think  that  it  was 
most  unlikely  that  man  should  be  left  to  grope  out 
his  way  in  ignorance  of  what  was  about  to  befall 
him.  They  had  not  such  a  material  view  of  life  as 
we — I  mean,  as  that  which  is  now  popular;  and 
hence  the  faith  placed  in  those  beliefs  now  held 
superstitious." 

''That  may  be  all  very  true,"  replied  his  father, 
taking  up  the  "  British  Almanack  "  to  look  for  the 
next  eclipse,  "but  I  cannot  see  that  men  were  any 
better  for  the  knowledge,  or  that  they  cleared  any 
difficulties  safely  in  consequence." 

"  That  is  because  you  have  never  read  the  old 
chronicles,"  replied  his  son. 

And  in  fact  Augustus  had  read  these  old  books  to 
some  purpose :  for  he  had  grown  to  believe  in  all  the 
wonderful  stories  they  told  as  firmly  as  ever  Fiam- 
metta  or  Bertha  the  wonderful  stories  told  them  by 
their  nurses.  He  was  in  fact  his  own  nurse,  and  his 
own  infant.  While  in  one  way  his  studies  made  him 
an  old  man,  while  yet  a  child  ;  in  another  way  these 
superstitions,  or  beliefs  unconnected  with  reason,  kept 


I90  FIVE  DA  YS'  ENTERTAINMENTS 

him  in  childhood  when  he  should  have  gained  the 
larger  feelings  of  a  man.  I  can  hardly  count  up  the 
many  foolish  notions  under  which  he  lay.  If  he  saw 
any  one  step  beneath  a  ladder,  he  thought  he  would 
be  hanged  within  six  weeks.  If  the  candles  were  left 
unsnuffed,  he  directly  saw  a  thief  in  the  wick,  and 
was  ready  to  swear  that  it  was  a  portrait  of  one  of  his 
father's  tenants.  If  a  coal  flew  out  of  the  fire,  he 
would  take  it  up  before  it  was  cold,  to  see  whether  it 
was  a  coffin  or  a  money-box  ;  and  as  it  burned  his 
fingers,  he  was  sure  it  must  be  the  coffin.  When  he 
walked  out,  his  eyes  were  always  in  the  air,  to  observe 
the  crows  and  ravens,  and  see  whether  they  flew  on 
his  right  hand  or  his  left.  When  he  went  out  shooting 
with  his  father,  he  could  not  help  missing  his  shot,  he 
said,  if  the  hares  crossed  and  doubled  his  path  on  the 
unlucky  side,  and  thought  the  gamekeeper  a  sceptical 
wretch  for  grinning.  If  a  beetle  was  heard  scratching 
and  biting  its  way  in  the  old  woodwork,  it  was  a  death- 
watch.  And  the  greatest  wonder  of  all  was,  that  any 
of  the  family  yet  survived  after  so  many  certain 
proofs  of  their  approaching  destruction ;  although  I 
never  heard  that  he  could  explain  how  this  happened. 
But  the  sign  in  which  Augustus  had  most  con- 
fidence was  the  sign  derived  from  sneezing.  No  other 
sign,  he  said,  was  so  ancient ;  it  had  been  so  long 
believed  in,  that  he  could  ask,  triumphantly,  whether 
there   must   not   be  some   truth   in    it.      It   was   an 


THE   YOUNG  QUIXOTE  19I 

authentic  uni\'crsal  belief:  a  real  innate  idea.  The 
great  Dr.  Whewell  of  Cambridge,  he  had  heard  on 
the  best  authority,  would  put  it  into  the  next  edition 
of  his  Philosophy.  But  the  Doctor,  as  I  have  been 
told,  was  a  great  deal  too  sensible.  Augustus  did 
not  mind  this,  but  went  on  with  his  argument.  The 
Greeks,  with  their  acute  minds,  believed  that  sneezing 
was  an  Augury.  The  Romans,  with  their  practical 
understandings,  were  certain  of  it.  But  these  were 
heathens.  The  men  of  the  Middle  Ages,  our  fore- 
fathers, believed  in  sneezing — as  he  read  in  the  old 
chronicles.  No  other  sign,  again,  he  said,  was  so 
trustworthy.  Other  signs  came  from  things  without, 
as  this  proceeded  from  a  man's  own  self.  Further, 
it  was  heard  from  the  noblest  part  of  a  man,  as  no 
one,  even  in  these  bad  days,  had  ever  denied  ;  it 
sounded  forth  from  the  head  itself — nay,  from  a 
trumpet  which  Nature  had  specially  provided,  and 
placed  foremost  in  the  very  middle  of  a  man's  face. 
Coming  whence  it  did,  he  did  not  doubt  that  a  good 
sneeze  was  in  direct  communication  and  counsel  with 
the  brain,  the  very  source  and  fountain  of  Reason. 

I  am  afraid  that  all  this  was  not  only  foolish  in 
itself,  but  led  other  people  into  folly.  As  Don 
Quixote  had  his  Squire,  Sancho,  who  half  believed 
him  and  half  took  advantage  of  him,  so  it  was  with 
Augustus.  His  chief  friends  were  two  boys  of  his 
own  age,  Robert  and  Edward,  whose  father's  house 


192  FIVE  DAYS'  ENTERTAINMENTS 

was  in  the  immediate  neighbourhood.  They  were 
not  wise  enough  to  answer  the  learned  superstitions 
of  Augustus,  and  to  show  him  that,  for  one  sign  which 
happened  to  fall  out  correctly,  fifty  were  flatly  con- 
tradicted by  facts  :  they  were  not  good  enough  to 
feel  that  it  was  a  wrong  thing  to  take  advantage  of 
such  weakness.  But  they  were  clever  enough  to  lead 
him  as  they  chose,  by  pretending  to  think  as  he  did. 
And  so  they  played  off  many  school-boy  tricks  on 
him,  which,  as  Sir  Augustus  Talbot,  his  father,  was 
richer  than  theirs,  always  ended  in  their  coming  into 
possession  of  his  toys,  or  fruit,  or  pocket-mpney.  For 
he  could  resist  no  request,  if  they  told  him  that  they 
had  seen  something  which  was  a  sure  sign  that  he 
would  grant  it ;  and  then  they  would  go  home,  and 
laugh  with  their  friends  at  the  foolishness  of  the 
young  Quixote — for  so  they  called  Augustus. 

Augustus's  father  had  given  him  a  garden  of  his 
own,  which  lay  in  a  farm  about  ten  miles  distant 
from  the  house.  And  in  this  garden  was  an  orchard, 
containing  some  very  fine  peach-trees  nailed  up 
against  the  south  wall.  Now  it  so  happened,  one 
summer  time,  when  the  fruit  was  ripe,  that  Augustus 
determined  to  go  and  gather  them,  and  bring  them 
for  a  present  to  his  mother,  who,  like  everybody  else 
whom  I  ever  met  with,  had  quite  a  particular  fancy 
for  peaches.  But  Robert  and  Edward  had  a  particular 
fancy  for  peaches  too,  as  it  happened :  and  presently 


THE   VOUXG  QUIXOTK  193 


hearing  of  this,  determined  that,  come  what  might, 
the  peaches  should  be  theirs.  So,  finding  that 
Augustus  had  ridden  over  to  his  garden,  and  intended 
to  stop  for  a  day  or  two  at  the  farm-house  to  see 
the  fruit  gathered,  they  set  out,  and  came  to  the  farm 
by  the  evening.  Augustus  welcomed  his  friends,  and 
taking  them  to  the  storeroom,  shewed  them  the 
peaches  all  ready  gathered  and  packed  in  wool,  so 
that  their  mouths  watered  at  the  sight.  "  I  wish  I 
could  give  you  any,"  said  he,  "  but  I  must  not,  for 
my  mother  would  be  very  angry  if  she  heard  of  it." 
And  then  he  invited  his  friends  to  stop  to  supper 
with  him  ;  but  they  were  so  annoyed  at  the  sight  of 
the  peaches  w^hich  they  were  not  to  touch,  that  they 
refused  to  stop,  and  bidding  him  good  evening,  left 
the  farm-house.  But,  as  they  went  out,  Edward  said 
to  Robert,  "  Brother,  we  shall  be  a  couple  of  green 
geese  if  we  do  not  have  a  look  at  the  storehouse 
before  we  go  home."  Robert  agreed,  but  added, 
the  difficulty  was  not  to  get  at  the  peaches,  but  to 
prevent  Augustus  from  finding  out  who  had  done  it. 
So  they  laid  their  heads  together — as  the  Common 
Council  of  the  City  of  London  did,  when  they  made 
the  w^ood  pavement — and  soon  devised  the  plan 
which  I  am  about  to  tell  you. 

At  the  dead  of  niglit,  climbing  into  the  storehouse 
window  by  a  ladder,  the  two  wicked  boys  carried  off 
the  fruit,  and  took   it  safely  in  baskets  to   their  own 

O 


194  FIVE  DA  YS'  ENTERTAINMENTS 

house.  Next  morning  they  again  presented  them- 
selves to  Augustus,  and  found  him  tearing  his  hair, 
and  crying  out  all  over  the  house — "  My  peaches  are 
stolen — my  peaches  arc  stolen  !  " 

*'  How  can  that  be  ?  "  said  his  pretended  friends  ; 
"  last  night  we  saw  them  all  safe  locked  up  in  the  store- 
house."— "  They  are  gone  now,"  replied  Augustus. 
''  They  are  stolen — what  shall  I  say  to  my  mother  .-' 
And  it  is  all  my  own  fault  too ;  for  when  I  began  to 
gather  them,  I  sneezed  three  times  together  ;  but  still 
I  went  on  gathering,  though  I  might  have  known 
what  was  about  to  happen.  For  you  know  the  old 
chronicles " 

"  We  are  very  sorry,"  said  Robert  and  Edward, 
interrupting  him — "  but  what  shall  we  do  }  " 

"  That's  more  than  I  can  tell,"  cried  he ;  *'  what  is 
the  use  of  friends,  if  they  cannot  help  me  .''  " — and 
then  he  began  to  scream  and  call  out  again  after  his 
peaches. 

"  It  must  be  some  tenant  of  yours,"  said  Edward, 
gravely.  *' All  we  have  to  do  is  to  find  out  who  the 
thief  is.  And  if  you  will  take  my  advice,  I  think  I 
have  a  plan  which  will  soon  put  you  on  the  right 
track." 

"  What's  that — pray  tell  us  !  "  said  Robert,  with  an 
air  of  great  curiosity. 

And  then  Edward  proposed  a  plan,  which  was 
much  like  that  I  told  you  of  in  my  last  story.     He 


THE   YOUNG  QUIXOTE  195 


advised  they  sliould  call  the  neighbours  togctlicr,  and 
should  make  trial  of  them,  as  he  said,  after  tlie 
fashion  of  the  Middle  Ages.  He  would  give  them 
each  a  rose  to  smell  of — and  then  if  any  one  should 
sneeze,  they  would  feel  not  the  slightest  doubt  of 
who  the  thief  was. 

"  I  never  knew  sneezing  to  fail,  "said  Robert,  gravely. 

"  Nor  I,"  said  Augustus. 

"  Do  you  agree  then  .''  " 

"  Yes,"  answered  he.  "  But  there  are  no  roses  in  my 
garden,  I  am  afraid.     What  shall  we  do  .''  " 

"  It  is  no  matter,"  answered  Robert.  "  I  have 
thought  of  that  already ;  we  will  go  home  and  fetch 
them,  and  return  here  by  the  afternoon,  if  you  will 
have  everybody  ready." 

And  so  the  plan  was  settled.  Robert  and  Edward 
rode  to  their  house,  and  gathered  a  sufficient  number 
of  full-bloom  roses.  The}'  took  care  to  choose  them 
of  different  colours  :  and  into  the  darkest  coloured  one 
they  put  a  quantity  of  cayenne  pepper — shaking  it 
down  carefully  between  the  leaves,  so  that  no  one 
could  observe  it. 

By  the  time  they  returned  Augustus  had  gathered 
together  a  goodly  company  of  his  father's  tenants 
and  neighbours,  who  all  fancied  that  it  could  be 
nothing  less  than  dinner  to  which  the  young  Squire 
had  invited  them.  But  they  found  themselves  sadly 
mistaken,  when  Robert,  ranging  them  all  in  a  circle — 

O  2 


196  FIVE  DAYS'  ENTERTAINMENTS 


in  which  he  and  his  brother  and  Augustus  also  took 
their  places — explained  why  it  was  that  they  had 
been  called  together.  They  tried  to  look  grave  ;  but 
do  what  they  could,  they  could  not  help  thinking 
chat  the  gentlemen  must  be  either  rogues  or  fools — 
or  perhaps  both.  Every  one,  however,  cried  out  that 
he  was  innocent  of  the  theft,  and  said  he  was  quite 
ready  to  go  through  the  trial. 

And  now  Robert,  taking  the  roses  in  his  left  hand, 
offered  one  with  his  right  to  each  of  the  company  in 
turn.  But  he  took  care  to  give  the  dark-coloured  one 
to  Augustus  :  and  no  sooner  did  it  come  near  his 
nose  than  he  sneezed  violently.  Every  one  stared 
with  astonishment.  "  What  does  it  all  mean  V  said  one. 
— "  I  don't  know,  I  am  sure,"  cried  Augustus,  much 
frightened.  ''  I  am  sure  it  was  not  the  rose — I  am  ill — 
I  have  a  cold,  I  believe."  So  Robert  carried  the 
flowers  round  again,  to  give  every  one  a  second  trial. 
But  the  second  time  the  unfortunate  Augustus  sneezed 
even  more  violently  than  before — once — twice — thrice, 
— there  was  seemingly  no  end  to  it  :  he  positively 
began  to  think  his  nose  was  coming  off,  and  the  tears 
came  running  down  with  the  violence  of  the  pepper, 
till,  between  the  nose  and  the  rose,  he  was  half  mad 
with  rage,  and  confusion,  and  annoyance.  ''What 
does  it  all  mean  1 "  asked  every  one.  "  It  is  only  that 
Mr.  Talbot  has  been  his  own  thief,  and  stolen  his 
own  peaches,"  cried  Robert  :  and   then  turning  to  his 


THE   YOUNG  QUIXOTE  1 97 


brother,  he  added,  "  No  honest  man  ikes  thieves 
company— thieves  to  thieves,  if  he  can  find  any  one 
here.  I  daresay  you  will  find  all  about  it  in  the  old 
chronicles."  And  he  and  all  the  rest  of  the  company 
took  their  departure,  laughing  and  jeering  at  the  foolish 
Augustus — who  hardly  knew  what  to  believe,  between 
the  truth  and  the  omen — and  holding  up  their  hands 
to  their  noses,  with  gestures  even  more  expressive  and 
contemptuous  than  that  vulgar  method  of  expressing 
contempt  commonly  signifies. 

The  children  sat  looking  on,  as  if  they  expected 
something  more.  "  Have  not  you  had  enough  }  " 
said  Arthur,  laughing, — "or  must  I  tack  on  a  moral 
to  my  fable  }  " 

"  Where  is  the  good  man  of  your  story  }  "  said  Lucy 
Wentworth.  "All  stories  have  a  good  man  or  a  good 
child  in  them." 

"  You  must  do  without  him  in  this  case,  1  am  afraid." 
answered  he.  "  One  fool  makes  many— as  the 
proverb  says— and  I  do  not  defend  Robert  and  Ed- 
ward ; — they  were  very  naughty  children,  and  I  hope 
they  grew  better  as  they  grew  older ;  I  only  wish  to 
show  the  evil  such  childish  fears  may  lead  to.  You 
must  not  take  me  for  a  thief  because  I  tell  you  about 
thieving." 

"  Except  with  regard  to  your  last  incident,"  said 
Mrs.  Wentworth.     "  But   I   still  say  of  you,  as  I  said 


I  98  FIVE  DA  YS'  ENTERTAINMENTS 


of  Eleanor  yesterday,  when  she  went  to  the  same 
Ten  Days'  Entertainment  for  her  story — that  such 
borrowing  is  not  dishonesty." 

"  Now  for  the  next,"  said  Arthur, — wilHng  to  turn 
the  discussion:  for  no  one  thinks  his  debts  pleasant 
conversation. 


ANNA'S     FOURTH    TALE 

THE   PEASANT  COUNTESS 

Rose,  the  peasant's  daughter,  was  at  work  in  her 
father's  garden.  Slowly  pacing  the  walks,  she  tied 
up  the  tall  white  lilies  and  the  carnations,  pulled  out 
and  cast  away  the  weeds  which  the  hot  summer's 
sun  had  raised  from  the  fruitful  earth,  and  gave  water 
to  her  favourite  plants  one  by  one,  as  evening  fell 
and  the  high  garden  hedge  cast  its  lengthening 
shadow  over  the  flower-beds.  And  meanwhile  ever 
and  anon  she  lifted  up  her  blue  eyes  from  the 
work,  and  cast  timid  looks  over  shrub  and  flower  to 
the  lattice  gate  at  the  farther  end  of  the  long  turf 
walk  that  led  towards  the  cottage-door.  "What  is 
Rose  looking  for  1 "  thought  her  father  to  himself,  as, 
his  day's  labour  among  the  vines  over  and  done,  he 
sat  in  the  porch,  humming  over  the  burden  of  a 
pretty  popular  song  of  the  day — 


THE  PEASANT  COUNTESS  1 99 


Marguerite 
Qui  m'invite 
A  te  center  mes  amours, 
Dis  moi  vite, 
Ma  petite, 
Si  je  dois  t'aimer  toujours,  &C.  &c. 

and  waiting  till  his  daughter  should  finish  her  work 
and  come  in  to  make  the  supper  ready.  "  What  is 
Rose  looking  for?  Oh!  I  remember — I  remember. 
How  could  this  foolish  old  head  forget  it,"  said  he, 
tapping  his  forehead  with  the  handle  of  his  pruning- 
knife.  "  And  'tis  just  thirty  years  this  day,  too,  since 
I  first  saw  my  dear  Marguerite.  T  remember  it,  for 
'tis  the  last  day  on  which  we  hear  the  cuckoo  here- 
abouts. 

Marguerite 

Qui  m'invite,  (See. 

Well,  I  suppose  I  had  better  leave  them  together — 
the  young  to  the  young :  and  he  looks  a  fine  noble 
fellow  too  : "  and  so  murmuring  to  himself,  the  old 
Pierre  rose  and  went  within  his  cottage  to  prepare  the 
supper  himself,  and  to  lay  out  the  table — for  three. 

"  What  is  it  all  about,  I  daresay  you  are  thinking, 
children,"  said  Anna.  "  But  if  you  had  been  in 
Pierre's  garden  a  few  minutes  later — in  his  garden  in 
the  pleasant  province  of  Touraine,  the  heart  and 
centre  of  beautiful  France — why  then  perhaps  you 
vvould  understand   it.     Just  as  her  father's  figure  had 


200  FIVE  DA  YS'  ENTERTAINMENTS 


left  the  cottage  porch,  a  young  man  made  his  appear- 
ance (and  I  am  told  it  was  quite  by  chance  that  the 
two  things  happened  together,  only  then,  you  know, 
there  is  no  such  thing  really  as  chance)  at  the  wicket- 
ijate  I  have  before  mentioned.  As  he  touched  his 
brown  felt  hat  with  a  respectful  air.  Rose  ran  gaily  up 
to  unloose  the  wooden  latch.  "  Edouard,"  whispered 
she — though  there  was  no  one  by  but  the  flowers  to 
hear  her— **  you  come  late  this  evening." 

"  I  had  much  to  do,"  said  he. 

*'  What  can  j/W/  have  to  do  }  "  said  Rose  ;  "you — (or 
thou,  as  I  ought  to  put  it,  if  we  would  draw  the  line 
the  French  draw  between  the  talk  of  acquaintances 
and  the  talk  of  friends)  "  a  poor  olive-grower's  son." 

*'  My  most  important  business  is,  however,  to  see 
you,"  answered  he,  smiling.  And  affectionately  taking 
her  hand,  they  walked  up  and  down  the  garden-paths 
together. 

They  talked  at  first  on  many  little  matters — the 
heat  of  the  day  past  and  the  coolness  of  the  evening, 
the  sweet  scent  and  the  beauty  of  the  flowers— and 
did  not  seem  to  find  it  wearisome. 

("  I  am  sure  I  should,  though,  to  hear  it,"  broke  in 
little  Lucy,  "  so  pray  leave  it  all  out." 

"  Hush  !  hush,"  said  Mrs.  Wentworth,  smiling  ; 
''you  put  Anna  out." 

"  Not  at  all,"  she  cried  gaily ;  "  what  shall  I  do  }  " 

"  O,  go  on,  and  tell  us  all  about  it,"  cried  Eleanor. 


THE  PEASANT  COUNTESS  20I 

"  I  daresay  we  sliall   understand  it  all  ;   I  am   sure   it 
was  very  nice  for  them." 

''  Bioil'  said  Anna;  and  then  in  her  story-telling 
voice  went  on — ) 

"What  flo\vers  are  }'ou  most  fond  of?"  said 
hxlouard. 

"  My  namesakes,  of  course,"  answered  Rose  ;  "  the 
fairest  to  look  on,  and  the  sweetest  to  smell." 

''  And  those  which  longest  keep  scent  and  beauty," 
said  he  with  a  smile. 

"  Fifty  years  hence,  if  we  are  both  spared  so  long," 
— "  Fifty  years  hence,  if  we  are  both  spared  so  long, 
I  shall  find  ;;/]'  Rose  as  fair  and  as  sweet  as  to-day," 
cried  Edouard,  with  sparkling  eyes.  "  Oh,  Rose,  what 
will  your  father  say  }  " 

''  My  dear  father, — he  is  so  kind  and  good,  that  I 
can  hardly  bear  to  think  of  leaving  him,"  answered 
Rose.  "  But  yet  he  says  he  knows  that  it  must  be — 
that  he  knows  my  dear  mother,  if  she  were  alive,  would 
wish  it — if  she  had  known  you,  Edouard  !  " 

"  All  is  gained  then  ! — all  is  gained  !  "  cried  he  ; 
"  but  how  did  he  learn  it  '^.  " 

"  Oh,  Edouard,  must  we  part  from  my  father  }  "  was 
all  her  answer.  *'  Cannot  we  still  live  together } 
Why  must  you  return  to  Beziers  T' 

"  So  it  must  be,  I  fear,"  said  he.  "  Only,  why  think 
more  of  it  before  needs  must  }  "  Then  gaily,  as  if 
wishing  to  change  the  subject,  "  Let  us  return  to  our 


202  FIVE  DAYS'  ENTERTAINMENTS 


roses,  Rose — revenons  a  nos  moutons.  Ever  since  I 
first  saw  you,  I  cannot  say  how  much  I  have  loved 
them  ! " 

"  And  so  it  was  always,  I  suppose,"  observed  Rose, 
archly.  "  Let  me  see.  How  did  the  song  you  wrote 
for  the  Flower  Games  at  Toulouse  (and  did  not  get 
the  prize)  go  }     Oh,  I  remember : 


O  maiden  mine — the  Rose  is  red, 

The  Rose  in  summer  blooming, 
When  high  she  lifts  her  royal  head 

In  purple  pride  presuming  : 
We  breathe  her  sweetness  from  afar 

Her  subject  flowers  revere  her  : 
She  shines  the  garden's  ruby  star  : 

We  worship  and  we  fear  her. 

But  O  the  Lily  flower  for  me 

Array'd  in  maiden  whiteness  : 
Her  timid  head  with  dews  bespread 

And  downcast  in  her  brightness  : 
Her  timid  head  with  dews  bespread, 

The  garden's  gentlest  daughter  ; 
Yet  queenlike  in  the  maiden  robe 

That  angel  fingers  wrought  her." 


"  Ah,  never  mind  ;  why  remember  it  } "  said  he. 
"  I  had  only  seen  the  Rose  from  a  distance  then,  and 
I  have  won  the  prize  now  :  have  I  not  V 

"  It  is  a  curious  thing,  however,"  continued  she  in 
her  thoughtful  way,  "  what  different  reasons  we  value 
things  for.     Some  plants,  I  mean,  we  value  for  their 


THE  PEAS  AX  r  COUNTESS  20, 


use  ;  some  for  their  colour,  like  those  tulips  ;  sonic  for 
their  scent,  and  those  most  of  all." 

"  Some  for  all  reasons,  my  little  garden  philosopher," 
said  Edouard.  "  I  see  the  lessons  of  field  and  garden 
have  not  been  thrown  away  on  you." 

"  It  is  to  my  mother  I  owe  it  all,"  answered  she. 
"  Sometimes  as  I  walk  here  and  look  on  my  flower- 
beds, I  wonder  what  I  should  do  without  flowers.  I 
really  do  not  think  I  could  live  without  them." 

*'  I  at  least  cannot  live  without  one,  Rose,"  said 
Edouard,  smiling.  "  So  let  us  off  to  your  father  and 
ask  his  full  consent— and  let  to-morrow,  dear,  dear 
Rose,  be  the  wedding-day  ;  for  I  am  called  away  on 
business." 

**  What  business  can  a  poor  olive-grower's  son 
have,"  thought  Rose,  as  without  a  word,  but  blushing 
like  her  own  namesakes,  she  took  Edouard's  arm  and 
w^ent  within  the  cottage. 

"  Oh,  my  dear  father,"  said  Rose,  a  few  hours 
later,  when  Edouard  had  left  them  for  the  even- 
ing, ''  I  am  so  happy ! — I  feel  as  if  it  were  almost 
a  sin  to  be  so  happy,  when  it  is  to  be  parted  from 
you." 

"  Do  not  let  us  talk  of  it  now,"  answered  Pierre. 
"  What  were  those  verses  that  Edouard  sent  you  the 
other  day,  together  with  the  beautiful  pot  of  damask 
roses  t  I  never  saw  any  such  before,  they  only  grow 
in  rich  men's  gardens." 


204  FIVE  DAYS'  ENTERTAINMENTS 


"  I  wondered  at  the  time  how  he  came  into  pos- 
session of  thcni,"  said  Rose. 

"  Did  you  ?"  said  her  father.  "  Something  made  him 
bold,  I  suppose.  But  now  for  the  verses.  How 
beautifully  he  writes  ! — quite  like  a  real  poet : 


If  the  thought,  the  hope,  be  rash, 

Sweetest,  ah  forgive  it ! 
Why  decline  my  true  love's  sign  ? 
Let  me  give  it ! 

Through  the  night  the  thought  has  fiU'd  me 

Waking,  should  I  lose  it  ? 
Through  the  day  the  hope  has  still'd  me  : 
Why  refuse  it  ? 

In  the  hope  of  pleasing  thee 
Was  my  dearest  pleasure  : 
In  that  thought  the  trifle  brought 
Seem'd  a  treasure. 

Though  the  thought,  the  hope,  be  rash, 

Sweetest,  ah  forgive  it  ! 
Why  decline  my  true  love's  sign  ? 
Let  me  give  it !  " 


The  next  morning  arose  bright  and  cheerful  ;  and 
now,  please,  my  gentle  hearers,  suppose  the  marriage 
over,  the  little  cottage  feast  done,  and  Edouard  and 
Rose,  like  the  Lord  of  Burleigh  and  his  wife  in 
the  beautiful  ballad,  lightly  setting  forth  on  their 
journey: — 


THE  PEASANT-COUNTESS  205 


"  I  can  make  no  marriage  present ; 

Little  can  I  give  my  wife. 
Love  will  make  our  cottage  pleasant, 

And  I  love  thee  more  than  life  !" 
They  by  parks  and  lodges  going 

See  the  lordly  castles  stand  : 
Summer  woods,  about  them  blowing, 

Made  a  murmur  in  the  land. 
From  deep  thought  himself  he  rouses, 

Says  to  her  that  loves  him  well, 
"  Let  us  see  these  handsome  houses. 

Where  the  wealthy  nobles  dwell.' 

("  Ah,  that  is  more  Hke  a  real  poet,"  whisi^cred 
Charles. 

"  Of  course,"  whispered  Anna.) 

And  so  it  was  with  Rose  and  Edouard.  By  beauti- 
ful parks  and  castles — many  of  them  ruined,  and  more 
beautiful  in  their  ruin,  for  those  high  threatening 
towers  seemed  as  it  were  softened  into  gentleness 
and  childhood  by  the  touch  of  Time — they  took 
their  way — 

All  he  shows  her  makes  him  dearer  : 

Evermore  she  seems  to  gaze 
On  that  cottage  growing  nearer. 

Where  they  twain  will  spend  their  days. 
O  but  she  will  love  him  truly  ! 

He  shall  have  a  cheerful  home  ; 
She  will  order  all  things  duly. 

When  beneath  his  roof  they  come. 

And  then,  as  it  was  with  the  Lord  of  Burleigh,  so, 
as  some  of  you  perhaps  have  already  guessed,  for  I 


206 


FIVE  DA  YS'  ENTERTAINMENTS 


see  it  in  your  eyes,  was  it  with  Edouard,  Count  of  La 
Forte,  by  the  city  of  Beziers.  He  led  his  village 
bride  within  the  gates  of  a  castle  more  splendid  and 


Xr^     i-^^m^^"  :"^T'-fy^^'    V 


more  stately  than  any  they  had  passed ;  the  servants 
welcomed  him  at  the  door  as  servants  welcome  a 
master  whom  they  love.     He    led  her   on,    through 


THE  PEASANT  COUNTESS  207 


liall  and  i^allcr)',  to  a  beautiful  room,  hi^h  in  a  tower 
that  looked  out  upon  the  South,  over  the  waters  of 
the  blue  Mediterranean,  and  telling  her  that  all  she 
saw  was  hers,  now  she  was  his,  he  kissed  Rose,  and 
comforted  her.  For  her  heart  sank  within  her  at 
the  sight  of  the  wealth  and  grandeur  around  her, 
and  she  would  have  wished  herself  once  more  within 
the  little  cottage  where  she  had  been  nursed  and 
bred,  had  it  not  been  for  that  greater  love  she  bore 
her  husband. 

So  she  strove  against  her  weakness, 

Though  at  times  her  spirit  sank  : 
Shaped  her  heart  with  woman's  meekness, 

To  all  duties  of  her  rank  : 
And  a  gentle  consort  made  he  ; 

And  her  gentle  mind  was  such 
That  she  grew  a  noble  lady, 

And  the  people  loved  her  much. 

But  \vith  the  rank  of  our  new  Countess,  for  such 
was  now  her  title,  followed  duties  and  trials  which 
Rose,  in  her  country  ignorance,  had  little  thought  of. 
After  some  few  months,  a  messenger  from  the  King 
came,  and  Edouard  was  called  away  to  serve  in  the 
wars,  for  he  was  a  brave  and  a  skilful  soldier,  and, 
like  Othello,  "  he  had  done  the  State  some  service, 
and  they  knew  it."  And,  like  the  gentle  Desdemona, 
Rose  would  fain  have  gone  with  her  husband  to 
Germany  :  but  so  it  was  not  to  be,  for  on  the  very 
day  on   which   Edouard   had  to   leave  his  home,  his 


208  FIVE  DAYS'  ENTERTAINMENTS 


dear  wife  brought  a  lovely  child  into  the  world, 
whose  first  cry  he  had  just  time  to  hear  before  his 
departure.  "  Please  God,"  said  he,  "  Rose,  in  a  few 
months  at  furthest  I  shall  be  with  you  again  ;  and 
who  knows  but  my  son  may  have  a  General  or  a 
Marshal  of  France  for  his  papa  by  that  time." 

"  If  it  pleases  God  that  you  return  safe,  Edouard, 
it  will  be  enough,"  said  she. 

"  If  France  is  safe,  and  you  are  safe,  it  will  indeed, 
Rose,"  answered  he,  softly  ;  "  only,  only,  take  care  of 
yourself,  dearest !  "  and  with  these  words  he  left  her, 
for  they  heard  the  trumpet  blowing  in  the  courtyard 
beneath  them. 

As  Edouard  rode  on  his  way  northwards,  he  com- 
forted himself  with  the  thought  tliat  at  any  rate  his 
wife  was  in  charge  of  good  hands,  for  he  had  left 
her  to  the  care  of  her  own  dear  father — who  had 
parted  with  his  cottage  in  Touraine,  and  taken  up 
his  dwelling  in  his  son-in-law's  castle  ;  and  of  his 
own  faithful  old  nurse  Fanchette — who  had  taken 
care  of  Edouard  from  his  childhood,  with  all  the  love 
of  a  mother ;  for  his  own  mother,  Avho  had  lost  her 
life  in  giving  him  his,  he  never  remembered. 

Now,  whether  it  was  from  natural  weakness,  or 
from  grief  and  anxiety  on  her  husband's  account,  or 
lastly,  from  the  feeling  that  she,  who  had  been  born 
a  peasant's  daughter,  was  now  left  in  charge  of  a 
Count's  castle  and  his  dependants,  and  that  in  time 


THE  PEASANT  COUNTESS  209 


of  war  and  trouble,  within  a  week  after  rAlouard  liad 
left  her, — but  Rose's  strength  began  to  fail,  and  in  a 
few  hours  she  was  brought  into  a  state  of  much 
danger.  Fanchette,  her  father,  and  the  physician  were 
in  the  utmost  fear,  but  everything  that  love  could 
plan,  or  skill  perform,  they  did,  and  God's  blessing 
was  on  their  endeavours.  The  Countess's  illness 
seemed  to  take  a  sudden  turn,  and  in  a  few  months, 
as  Edouard  said,  the  war  was  brought  to  a  happy 
close  for  France,  and  that  mainly  by  the  Count's 
skill  in  battle.  And  so  when  peace  was  made  he 
returned  to  his  home,  rejoicing.  Rose  and  Edouard 
had,  as  you  will  fancy,  much  to  tell  each  other.  For 
he  had  to  speak — 

Of  moving  accidents  by  flood  and  field, 

Of  hair-breadth  'scapes  i'  the  imminent  deatlly  breach — 

Then  of— 

The  neighing  steed  and  the  shrill  trump, 

The  spirit-stirring  drum  :  the  ear-piercing  fife, 

The  Royal  Banner  :  and  all  quality, 

Pride,  pomp,  and  circumstance  of  glorious  war  : 

nor  had  he  less  to  say  of  the  happy  end  of  it,  and 
of  the  firm  and  blessed  peace  for  both  France  and 
(jermany,  which,  partly  through  his  own  bravery 
and  moderation,  had  been  brought  about  between 
them. 

Rose  thought  when  she  had  heard  all  this,  that  she 
had  little  indeed   to  tell  in   return.     But    that    little 

P 


2IO  FIVE  DAYS'  ENTERTAINMENT!^ 


seemed  much  to  Edouard,  for  his  great  love.  And 
so  she  had  to  speak  of  all  matters  relating  to  her 
sickness  and  her  recovery,  which,  in  truth,  she  had 
almost  forgotten,  for  she  had  but  little  memory  for 
pain  that  she  had  herself  suffered. 

"  And  so  you  were  in  great  danger  at  one  time, 
Rose  ? "  said  he ;  *'  I  am  thankful  that  I  did  not  know 
it,  and  yet,  that  you  should  be  in  great  danger,  and 
I  not  know  it  .  .  .  !  " 

"  I  was,  indeed,  so  they  said,"  answered  Rose. 
"  My  strength"  had  failed  me,  and  I  had  scarcely 
power  left  to  speak  or  think,  or  even  to  wish  any- 
thing. One  evening,  the  ninth  after  you  had  gone, 
Edouard,  it  was,  as  I  lay  so,  I  thought  the  last  had 
come,  my  heart  so  sank  within  me.  And  yet  I 
thought,  as  it  were  in  a  dream,  that  oh,  if  any 
one  would  lay  a  rose  near  me,  and  I  could  smell 
it,  that  it  would  revive  me.  Was  it  not  a  strange 
thought  ?" 

"  Yes,"  said  he,  "  but  why  did  you  not  ask  for  it  ? " 

"  Chiefly  because  I  could  not,"  answered  his  wife, 
smiling,  "  my  dear  Edouard !  And  then  the  phy- 
sician had  told  Fanchette  the  day  before  to  take  all 
the  flowers  from  my  room  ;  I  heard  him  say  so.  He 
thought,  I  believe,  that  the  scent  would  make  the  air 
heavy  and  unwholesome." 

"  So  I  have  heard  say  ;  but  what  did  you.  Rose 
darling  t " 


THE  PEASANT  COUNTESS  2  I  I 


"  Nothing,  dear  Edouard ;  I  could  indeed  do  nothing. 
But  my  dear  father,  who  was  standing  by  watching 
mc — I  know  not  what  it  was  that  made  him  know  the 
thing  I  wished  for,  unless  it  was  put  into  his  mind 
from  above — but,  something  seemed  to  strike  him,  and 
he  suddenly  left  the  room.  And  I  was  falling,  I  be- 
lieve, into  an  utter  fit  of  if^norance  and  faintin^;  when 
in  a  moment  he  returned,  with  his  hands  full  of  the 
beautiful  Damascus  roses  that  grow,  you  know,  around 
the  courtyard.  And  when  he  held  them  to  me,  I  felt 
that  I  drew  a  deep  breath,  and  the  life  seemed  to 
return  to  me.  But  do  not  look  so  wildly,  my  dear 
Edouard,"  said  Rose  ;  "  you  know  I  began  to  recover 
at  once,  and  it  is  all  over  now." 

"  It  is,  thank  God — and  yet  it  is  not,"  answered  he  ; 
"  it  seems  all  so  hazy  before  me." 

"  Well,  indeed  it  was  like  a  dream  to  me,  Edouard  ; 
and  I  suppose  I  really  fell  asleep  and  was  dreaming. 
For  I  thought  I  was  again  in  my  father's  garden,  and 
that  it  was  the  evening  before  our  marriage,  and  that 
you  were  standing  by  me,  and  that  you  gathered  a 
rose  that  grew  by,  and  said,  '  Let  me  give  it,  Rose  ; 
let  me  give  it,'  And  when  I  took  the  flower,  the 
smell  of  it,  I  thought,  was  sweeter  than  that  of  an}' 
rose  I  knew  before  ;  and  it  seemed  to  grow  in  m>- 
hands,  and  presently  its  breath  began  to  come  and  go, 
and  it  was  no  longer  a  flower,  but  my  dear  baby  that 
lay  in   my   arms,   and   clasped    my  hair  in   its    little 

P  2 


2  I  2  FIVE  DA  YS'  ENTERTAINMENTS 

fingers,  and  smiled  on  me.  And  you  said,  '  It  is  a 
flower  still,  dear  Rose,  and  the  sweetest  I  have  ever 
seen.'  Was  it  not  strange,  Edouard,"  concluded  she, 
"  very  strange  .-*     But,  after  all,  it  was  but  a  dream." 

"  And  when  you  woke,  dear  Rose  .'' " 

"  When  I  woke,  my  strength  had  returned  to  me,  so 
refreshing  had  my  sleep  been.  And  was  this  not 
pleasant  too  }  for  I  found  they  had  put  the  little  one  in 
my  arms,  and  it  had  grasped  my  hair  in  its  fingers,  as 
it  was  in  the  dream.  And  it  smiled  on  me,  and  looked 
at  me  with  its  strange,  wild  eyes,  exactly  as  if  it  knew 
of  the  danger  I  had  passed  through,  and  would  speak 
and  tell  me  of  it,  and  could  not." 

"  Ah,  dearest,  dearest  Rose,"  said  Edouard,  pressing 
her  hand,  "  and  if  we  all  our  life  dream  such  dreams, 
we  shall  not,  I  think,  regret  it." 

"  Is  that  all.''"  asked  the  children,  when  Anna  ended 
her  tale. 

''  Why,  what  more  would  you  wish  for } "  said  she. 

"  Something  more  of  a  story,"  answered  Lucy. 
"Why,  I  thought  Rose  would  dress  herself  like  a 
little  foot-page,  and  go  after  her  husband  to  the  wars, 
at  least." 

"As  you  read  of  in  the  old  Scotch  ballad,  I  sup- 
pose," said  Arthur.  "Well,  I  am  well  satisfied  with 
Anna's  performance.  We  have  had  adventures  enough 
elsewhere,  and  may  perhaps  afford  a  little  poem  for 


SULEYMAN  AND  THE  CALENDARS       2  I  3 


once.  I  was  afraid,  for  my  part,  you  were  only  ^oin^^ 
to  give  us  Tennyson's  "  Lord  of  Burleigh  "  in  prose, 
which  would  not  have  been  an  improvement,  although 
I  won't  say  that  Edouard's  ow^n  verses  might  not  have 
gained  by  it." 

**  Not  quite  ;  I  leave  such  appropriation  to  Emily," 
replied  Anna,  laughing. 

**  Well,  don't  reveal  the  secrets  of  the  trade,"  said 
Emily,  smiling  in  her  turn,  as  she  took  her  place  and 
began  her  story. 


EMILY'S   FOURTH  TALE 

SULEYMAN  AND   THE   CALENDARS 

There  was  a  rich  man  in  the  city  of  Cairo,  and  he 
had  lands,  and  houses,  and  horses,  and  slaves  in  pos- 
session ;  and  after  he  had  enjoyed  them  temperately 
and  w^ith  wisdom  for  a  while,  he  departed  from  this 
life,  leaving  one  young  son,  w^iose  name  was  Suley- 
man.  And  when  Suleyman  grew^  up,  he  ate  and 
drank,  and  delighted  his  soul  wnth  song  and  music  ; 
and  he  gave  gifts,  and  he  borrowed  money,  until  at 
last  all  the  wealth  that  his  father  had  left  him  was 
vanished  and  gone.  And  he  became  so  poor  that  he 
worked  with  the  labourers  who  stand  waiting  for  hire 
in  the  market-place.  Thus  he  spent  several  years  ; 
and  one  day,  as  he  sat  beneath  a  wall,  waiting  to  see 


2  1 4  FIVE  DA  YS'  ENTERTAINMENTS 

who  would  hire  him,  it  so  happened  that  a  man,  a 
Calendar,  of  a  fair  countenance  and  goodly  apparel, 
drew  near  and  saluted  him.  So  the  youth  said  to 
him,  "  Hast  thou  known  me  before  ?  " 

The  man  answered  him,  ''  I  have  not  known  thee  at 
all,  O  my  son  ;  but  I  see  the  marks  of  wealth  upon 
thee,  even  in  this  thy  poverty." 

Suleyman  replied,  **  What  was  written  and  decreed 
has  come  to  pass.  But  has  my  father  any  labour 
wherein  to  employ  me  }  " 

And  the  Calendar  answered,  ''  I  have  with  me  ten 
princes  in  one  house,  and  we  have  no  one  who  should 
serve  us.  But  if  thou  wilt  come,  thou  shalt  receive  from 
us  food  and  clothing,  what  shall  suffice  thee  ;  and  thou 
shalt  also  receive  from  us  thy  portion  of  wealth  and 
of  charity.  And  perhaps  thou  wilt  in  time,  by  our 
means,  be  restored  to  thy  former  state  and  live  the 
life  of  the  wealthy." 

Then  Suleyman  said,  "  I  hear  and  obey." 

"  But  there  is  one  command  that  I  have  to  lay  on 
thee,"  concluded  the  man.  "  Thou  shalt  keep  our 
secret  with  respect  to  the  things  that  thou  shalt  see 
done  of  us  ;  and  when  thou  shalt  see  us  weep,  ask 
not  the  cause  of  our  weeping."  And  the  young  man 
replied,  "  Well,  O  father,"  and  he  went  with  him. 

Now  when  Suleyman  had  been  led  to  the  bath,  and 
had  bathed  himself,  and  had  clad  himself  in  a  new 
garment,    he    entered    the    dwelling    place    of   the 


SULEYMAN  AND   THE  C ALEX IhARS       215 

Calendars.  And  when  he  came  in,  he  found  it  to  he  a 
high  mansion,  built  of  fair  stone,  with  chambers  and 
with  halls  facing  each  other  :  and  in  each  hall  was  a 
fountain  of  water,  and  birds  were  singing  over  it  ;  and 
the  windows,  that  were  set  on  each  of  the  four  sides, 
looked  over  a  beautiful  garden  which  lay  within  the 
court  of  the  [:ialace.  The  Calendar  led  him  into  one- 
of  the  chambers,  and  he  found  it  adorned  with 
coloured  marble,  and  the  ceiling  was  dyed  with  gold 
and  azure  ;  and  it  was  spread  with  carpets  of  silk  : 
and  he  saw  sitting  within  ten  other  Calendars,  face  to 
face,  w^earing  the  garments  of  mourning,  weeping,  and 
wailing.  So  Suleyman  wondered  at  their  case,  and 
would  fain  have  questioned  the  one  who  brought  him 
thither,  but  he  remembered  the  command,  and  with- 
held his  tongue  from  w^ords. 

Then  the  Calendar  gave  to  the  young  man  a 
chest  filled  with  gold,  and  said  that  he  should  spend 
out  of  the  chest  upon  them  and  upon  himself  accord- 
ing to  what  was  just,  and  be  faithful,  and  take  care  of 
what  was  trusted  to  him.  And  Suleyman  replied,  "  I 
hear  and  obey." 

And  thus  many  days  went  by  ;  after  which  it  came 
to  pass  that  one  of  the  Calendars  died,  and  the  rest 
took  him  and  wrapped  him  up,  and  buried  him  in  a 
garden  behind  the  palace.  And  death  ceased  not  to 
take  one  of  them  after  another  until  there  remained 
only  the  Calendar  who  had  hired   Suleyman :  so  he 


2  T  6  FIVE  DA  YS'  ENTERTAINMENTS 


remained  with  him  in  that  home,  and  there  was  no 
other  with  them  ;  and  they  dwelt  there  for  many 
years.  Then  the  Calendar  fell  sick ;  and  w4ien  Su- 
leyman  saw  it  he  was  sad,  and  he  said  to  him,  "  O 
father,  I  have  served  you  for  twelve  years,  and  all 
that  while  have  I  done  faithfully  by  you,  according 
to  my  power  and  ability."  The  Calendar  replied,  "  It 
is  so,  my  son.  Thou  hast  served  me  until  these  men 
have  been  taken  to  God  :  and  we  too  must  die."  And 
Suleyman  said,  "  O  my  master,  the  illness  is  heavy 
upon  thee,  and  thy  strength  faileth  thee  ;  now  there- 
fore I  desire  of  thee  one  thing — that  thou  wouldest 
teach  me  what  has  been  the  cause  of  the  weeping, 
and  why  for  all  this  time  thou  hast  mourned  and  sor- 
rowed together  with  those  men  that  were  with  thee." 

But  he  replied,  "  O  my  son,  handle  not  what  con- 
cerns thee  not ;  and  ask  me  not  to  do  w^hat  I  cannot 
do,  for  I  have  prayed  that  I  should  not  afflict  any  one 
with  my  affliction.  Now,  if  thou  desirest  to  be  saved 
from  that  into  which  w^e  have  fallen,  open  not  that 
door,"  (and  he  pointed  to  it  with  his  hand,  and  warned 
him  against  it) ;  "  and  if  thou  desirest  that  what  hath 
befallen  us  should  befall  thee,  open  it,  and  thou  wilt 
know  the  cause  of  what  thou  hast  seen  in  us  when 
we  sat  and  were  sad  ;  but  if  thou  doest  so,  thou  wilt 
repent  when  repentance  will  not  avail  thee." 

Then  the  illness  increased  upon  the  Calendar,  and 
he  died ;    and    the  young    man  with  his    own  hand 


SULEYMAN  AND  THE  CALENDARS       2  1  7 


wrapped  him  up,  and  laid  him  in  the  garden  of  that 
house  by  his  companions. 

Now  Suleyman  abode  still  in  that  place,  and  no 
one  took  anythin^r  of  it  from  him — neither  the  house 
nor  anything  that  was  in  it.  But  nevertheless,  his 
mind  rested  not,  but  was  moved  when  he  bethought 
him  of  the  Calendars,  and  how  they  sat  and  were  sad 
continually.  And  while  he  thought  over  the  words 
of  the  Calendar,  and  how  he  had  counselled  him  that 
he  should  not  open  the  door,  lifting  up  his  eyes,  he 
gazed  upon  it,  for  it  was  in  the  upper  gallery  of  that 
chamber.  And  it  was  lofty,  and  of  fair  proportions  ; 
and  over  it  was  spread  the  work  of  a  skilful  jeweller. 
And  from  it  there  came  forth  an  odour,  and  it  was 
sweeter  than  that  of  the  roses  of  Iran.  And  when  he 
smelled  it,  he  said,  **  Surely  this  is  the  gate  of  heaven." 
And  upon  it  were  four  locks  of  steel,  and  over  these 
the  spider  had  woven  her  webs  ;  and  when  he  saw 
this,  he  remembered  the  counsel  that  he  had  received 
of  the  Calendar,  and  he  turned  his  eyes  aside,  and 
went  his  way. 

And  thus  did  Suleyman  every  day.  And  the 
odour  lay  upon  his  soul,  and  he  said  within  him- 
self, "  Surely  behind  this  door  are  the  roses  of 
heaven."  And  so  his  soul  desired  him  to  open  the 
door  ;  but  he  held  it  back  during  a  time  of  thrice 
seven  days,  but  on  the  last  day  the  sweet  odour  over- 
came his  soul,  and  he  said,  *'  I  will  turn  the  key,  and 


2l8  FIVE  DAYS'  ENTERTAINMENTS 


the  door  shall  move  upon  its  hinges,  but  what  shall 
follow  Allah  knoweth,  for  all  things  happen  after  His 
will." 

Accordingly  he  arose  and  turned  the  key,  and  the 
door  moved  of  itself  upon  its  hinges  :  and  when  it 
was  opened,  he  saw  a  narrow  passage,  along  which 
he  walked  for  the  space  of  three  hours :  and  he 
came  forth  upon  the  bank  of  a  great  river.  And 
on  either  side  of  the  river  grew  many  roses  :  and  they 
were  tall,  and  fair  to  look  upon  :  but  when  he  smelled 
them,  behold,  their  odour  had  gone  from  them.  At 
this  Suleyman  wondered  :  and  he  walked  along  the 
bank  looking  to  the  right  hand  and  to  the  left :  and 
as  he  looked,  a  great  eagle  came  down  from  the  sky, 
and  taking  him  up  with  its  feet,  it  flew  with  him 
between  heaven  and  earth,  until  it  bore  him  to  an 
island  in  the  midst  of  the  sea,  and  it  cast  him  down 
there,  and  departed  from  him. 

So  Suleyman  sat  there,  and  knew  not  whither  he 
should  go,  for  his  mind  was  troubled.  But  one  day,  lo! 
the  sail  of  a  vessel  rose  upon  the  sea-shore  before  him 
as  a  star  in  the  sky  ;  and  hope  was  born  in  his  heart, 
and  he  looked  at  it  continually,  until  it  came  near 
to  him.  And  when  it  came  near,  he  beheld  a  ship  of 
ivory  and  ebony,  and  the  sails  were  of  silk,  and  the 
oars  were  of  sandal-wood.  And  in  it  there  were  ten 
maidens,  fair  as  the  moon  :  and  when  the  maidens 
saw  him,  they  landed  to  him  from  the  ship,  and  kissed 


SULEYMAN  AND  THE  CALENDARS       219 


his  hands,  and  said  to  him,  *'  Thou  art  the  kini^,  the 
bridegroom."  Tlien  one  of  them  i)laced  on  liis  head 
a  crown,  set  with  precious  jewels,  and  she  clothed 
him  in  a  royal  robe.  And  the  maidens  carried  him 
to  the  ship,  and  he  found  in  it  carpets  of  silk  of  many 
colours.  Then  they  spread  the  sails,  and  went  over 
the  sea  of  seas. 

Suleyman  knew  not  whither  his  course  was  ;  but 
when  they  came  in  sight  of  land,  he  beheld  it  covered 
with  armed  men,  clad  in  coats  of  mail.  They  brought 
him  forward  five  horses,  with  saddles  of  gold,  set  with 
all  manner  of  precious  stones  :  and  he  chose  a  horse 
from  amongst  them,  and  mounted  him.  And  when 
he  mounted,  the  flags  and  banners  were  set  up  over 
his  head,  and  the  drums  and  cymbals  were  beaten, 
and  the  armed  men  ranged  themselves  in  two  armies, 
to  the  right  hand  and  to  the  left.  And  presently  he 
came  in  sight  of  a  fair  meadow,  in  which  were  palaces 
built  of  white  stone,  and  gardens,  and  trees,  and 
rivers,  and  flowers  :  and  their  scent  was  as  the  scent 
of  Paradise.  And  another  army  came  forth  to  meet 
him  from  the  palaces  and  gardens,  like  the  stream 
when  it  pours  down  from  the  mountains  :  and 
when  they  drew  near  to  him  they  parted  ;  and  a 
king  came  from  among  them,  riding  alone,  but  his 
face  was  veiled,  so  that  Suleyman  saw  it  not.  And 
when  the  king  was  near  to  Suleyman,  he  alighted  from 
off  his  horse  :  and  Suleyman  alighted  also,  and  they 


2  20  FIVE  DA  YS'  ENTERTAINMENTS 

saluted  each  other  with  words  of  welcome.  Then 
they  mounted  their  horses  again  ;  and  the  King  said 
to  Suleyman,  "  Go  with  us,  for  thou  art  my  guest." 
So  they  went  together,  and  the  armies  went  before 
them,  until  they  reached  the  palace.  And  they 
alighted,  and  entered  the  palace ;  and  Suleyman's 
hand  was  in  the  King's  hand :  and  he  led  him  to  a 
throne,  and  seated  himself  there  by  him.  And  when 
the  king  took  the  veil  from  his  face,  lo !  it  was  a  fair 
damsel,  like  the  shining  sun  in  the  clear  sky,  and  a 
lady  of  beauty  and  of  wisdom,  that  sat  there  by 
Suleyman.  And  when  Suleyman  saw  her,  he  loved 
her,  and  he  spoke  to  her,  and  said,  "  O  lady,  am  I 
thy  lord  and  thy  husband  t " 

And  she  said  to  him,  "  Know,  O  young  man,  that 
I  am  she  of  Sheba,  and  that  my  wisdom  is  great,  and 
known  among  the  sons  of  men.  And  if  thou  wilt 
speak  to  me  one  riddle,  and  I  answer  it  not,  thou  shalt 
be  my  lord  and  my  husband  :  but  if  not,  thou 
shalt  die." 

Now  when  Suleyman  looked  on  the  maiden,  he 
loved  her  greatly ;  and  he  thought  a  while  within 
himself,  and  then  he  said : 

"  What  is  redder  than  the  rose,  and  whiter  than  the 
lily,  and  sweeter  than  the  violet }  " 

But  when  the  Queen  heard  these  words,  she  was 
troubled  ;  and  she  cast  down  her  eyes,  and  she 
blushed   exceedingly ;    whereat  the  lords   and    those 


SULEYMAN  AND  THE  CALENDARS       22  1 


that  stood  b}'  wondered  i;reatly.  And  at  last  she 
lifted  up  her  eyes  and  looked  on  Suleyman,  and  said, 
"  Of  a  truth,  O  King,  I  know  not." 

And  Suleyman  answered  :  **  Thou,  O  Queen,  art 
redder  than  the  rose,  and  whiter  than  the  lily,  and 
sweeter  tlian  the  violet  ;  now,  therefore,  thou  art  my 
Queen,  for  I  love  thee."  And  therefore  he  arose  and 
would  have  kissed  the  ground  before  her ;  but  she 
forbade  him  ;  and  he  replied  :  *'  O  my  mistress,  I  am 
less  than  the  servants  who  serve  thee." 

Then  said  she  to  him  :  "  Seest  thou  not  those  ser- 
vants, and  soldiers,  and  wealth,  and  treasures,  and 
precious  stones  .''" 

He  answered  her,  "Yes." 

And  she  said  to  him,  ''  All  these  are  thine,  for  I  am 
thine,  and  mine  are  thine  ;  and  thou  shalt  use  them 
and  give  them  as  it  seemeth  fit  to  thee."  Then  she 
lifted  up  her  hand  and  pointed  to  a  closed  door  that 
was  by  in  the  chamber,  and  said  to  him, 

"  All  these  things  are  thine  ;  but  this  door  thou 
shalt  not  open,  for  if  thou  open  it  thou  wilt  repent 
when  repentance  shall  not  avail  thee." 

And  her  words  were  not  ended  when  the  Kadee 
with  the  witnesses  entered  ;  and  all  of  them  were  old 
women,  with  their  hair  spreading  over  their  shoulders, 
and  they  were  great  and  noble  to  look  upon  ;  and 
when  they  came  before  the  Queen  she  bade  them 
perform  the  ceremony  of  the  marriage.     And  so  they 


2  2  2  FIVE  DA  KS"  ENTER  TAINMENTS 


married  her  to  Suleyman,  and  the  feast  was  spread  ; 
and  when  they  had  eaten  and  drank,  he  took  her  as 
his  wife,  and  he  Hved  with  her  seven  years  ;  and  the 
seven  years  went  by  as  one  day,  so  great  was  his  joy 
and  his  happiness. 

But  one  day  he  came  near  to  the  door,  and  lo !  a 
scent  as  of  the  lilies  of  Paradise  came  from  it ;  and 
the  odour  entered  his  soul,  and  he  said,  "  Within  it 
are  treasures  greater  than  what  I  have  seen,  else  would 
not  the  Queen  have  forbidden  me  to  open  it.  But  if 
not,  Allah  knoweth."  And  he  arose  and  opened  the 
door,  and  the  door  turned  upon  its  hinges.  And  lo  ! 
within  was  the  Bird  that  had  carried  him  from  the 
shore  of  the  great  river  and  borne  him  to  the  island  ; 
and  when  the  Bird  beheld  him,  it  said  to  him,  "  No 
welcome  to  a  face  that  will  never  be  happy  !"  So 
when  he  saw  it  and  heard  its  v/ords,  he  fled  from  it  ; 
but  it  went  after  him  and  carried  him  off,  and  flew 
with  him  between  heaven  and  earth  for  the  space  of 
one  hour,  and  left  him  in  the  place  from  which  it  had 
carried  him  away,  and  he  saw  it  no  more. 

The  young  man,  Suleyman,  sat  therefore  in  that 
place,  and  he  thought  of  all  that  he  had  seen,  and  of 
his  wealth,  and  honour,  and  pleasures  when  he  was 
with  the  fair  Queen  ;  and  when  he  thought  thereon 
he  wailed  and  wept.  And  he  wandered  upon  the 
shore  of  the  great  river  whither  the  Bird  had  borne 
him  for  the  space  of  two  months,  wishing   that  he 


SULEYMAN  AND  THE  CALENDARS       223 


mii^ht  return  to  his  wife  ;  and  he  smelled  tlie  hhes 
and  the  roses  that  grew  on  the  bank,  but  their  scent 
had  departed  from  them.  And  while  he  was  one 
night  awake,  weeping  and  waiHng,  a  speaker  spoke 
(and  he  heard  his  voice,  but  saw  not  his  face),  calhng 
out,  "  How  great  were  his  dehghts  !  Far,  far  from 
thee  is  the  return  of  what  is  past !  And  how  many 
therefore  will  be  the  sighs  !"  When  the  young 
man  heard  it,  he  knew  within  himself  that  he  should 
never  see  the  Queen  again,  nor  go  back  to  the  happi- 
ness in  which  he  had  been  living.  So  he  returned  to 
the  palace  where  the  Calendars  had  dwelt ;  and  he 
knew,  that  what  had  happened  to  him,  was  that  which 
had  happened  to  them  also  :  and  that  this  was  the 
reason  w^iy  they  mourned  and  wept ;  wherefore  he 
wondered  at  it  no  more,  and  he  excused  them  for  it. 
And  grief  and  sorrow  came  upon  Suleyman,  and  he 
entered  the  chamber  where  they  had  sat,  and  he  sat 
down  therein,  and  he  neither  smiled  nor  spoke  more, 
but  the  faces  of  them  who  had  sat  there  were  with 
him  continually ;  and  so  he  wept  and  mourned  until 
he  died  ;  and  they  buried  him  by  the  side  of  the 
Calendars. 

Emily's  tale  seemed  to  satisfy  the  elders  ;  only  the 
little  ones  complained,  that  as  it  was  the  last  on  that 
day,  they  should  have  had  something  cheerful  to  finish 
with. 


2  24  FIVE  DAYS'  ENTER TAINMENTS 


"  I  could  not  help  it,"  said  Emily.  '*  It  was  my 
turn  to  be  last  this  time.  Is  it  not  a  curious  thing," 
added  she  to  Mrs.  Wentworth,  "  that  so  many  stories 
should  include  the  incident  of  tlie  Closed  Door  .'* " 

*'  It  is,  however,  equally  curious  that  it  should  be 
generally  a  lady  who  opens  it,"  said  Arthur. 

"  Curiosity  has  been  supposed  our  inheritance 
since  the  days  of  Eve,"  answered  Mrs.  Wentworth. 
smiling,  "  especially  as  most  stories  are  written  by 
men.  But  Emily  has  this  time  taken  her  revenge 
on  you." 

''  It  is  not  due  to  me,"  replied  Emily.  "  If  you 
look  in  Lane's  Arabian  Anecdotes,  you  will  find  my 
original.  And,  to  put  my  confessions  together,  for 
Cerisa  I  was  greatly  indebted  to  Grimm's  admirable 
German  collection." 

"  It  is  you  then,  Emily,  who  are  the  Thief  in  the 
Family,"  whispered  the  little  Lucy,  climbing  up  on 
her  knee. 

*'  I  am  quite  content  to  be  so,"  answered  she, 
quietly,  "while  it  is  so  much  to  your  advantage. 
Indeed,  I  give  notice  that  any  one  who  has  the 
courage  to  hunt  through  those  three  little  German 
volumes  may  probably  find  there  what  I  have  to  tell 
to-morrow." 

"  We  cannot  complain  that  Emily  does  not  put  us 
on  the  right — on  the  right  track,"  said  Mrs.  Went- 
worth, rising,  and    leading  the  party  forth   into  the 


SULE  YMAN  AND   THE  (J A LEM).  I  A's        225 

garden.  During  the  course  of  tlie  afternoun  the 
heavy  summer  clouds,  whicli  liad  so  Ioiil;- darkened  tlie 
sky,  had  cleared  up,  and  the  sun  now  shone  forth  in 
all  his  glory.  The  fresh  scent  of  the  dewy  grass 
greeted  the  children,  as  they  ran  up  and  down  the 
gravelled  paths.  The  last  notes  of  the  cuckoo  were 
heard  from  the  grove,  the  bees  flew  from  plant  to 
plant,  and  the  flowers  lifted  up  their  heads  to  the 
happy  sunlight,  and,  as  if  in  gratitude  to  the  now 
smiling  sky,  put  on  their  fairest  colours,  and  poured 
out  on  the  air  the  treasure  of  their  re-awakened 
odours. 


END   OF   THE   FOURTH    DAY 


2  26  FIVE  DA  YS'  ENTER  TA INMENTS 


FIFTH    DAY 


To  the  SM'eet  our  sweets  reveal  them 
Gentle  hearts  alone  can  feel  them. 


"  Look  at  that  naughty  sun,"  cried  Lucy  Wentworth 
in  a  melancholy  tone,  as  she  took  her  place  in  the 
drawing-room  with  the  rest  of  the  party.  "  It  will  be 
our  last  afternoon,  I  suppose.  How  I  wish  there  were 
ten  senses  instead  of  five  !  " 

"  Indeed  .''  "  said  Arthur.  "  I  however  certainly  wish 
there  w^ere  some  other  which  we  could  exchange 
for  our  remaining  subject." 

"What  is  that?"  asked  Mrs.  Wentworth.  "Oh! 
P'eeling,  I  suppose.  But  I  hardly  see  why  you  should 
find  it  the  hardest  to  deal  with." 

"  It  differs  in  so  many  ways  from  the  others,"  said 
Arthur. 

"  It  is  more  vague,"  said  Charles. 

"  It  is  not  in  the  head,  as  the  rest  are,"  said  Eleanor. 

*'  And  so  it  is  a  kind  of  blind  sense,"  continued 
Arthur,  "  which  may  be  said  in  some  way  to  include 


VIOLA 


THE  MODERN  MIDAS  227 


the  others  in  itself.  If  we  did  nut  feel,  we  should  not 
see,  or  hear.  It  is  the  foundation — the  first  condition, 
so  to  speak,  of  the  rest." 

"  It  is  the  common  sense,"  said  Luc}-,  puttin;^  out 
an  inquiring  look,  half  fear,  half  pleasure. 

''Well  done,  Lucy!  but  no  more  puns  to-day,  if 
you  are  really  sorry  it  is  the  last,"  replied  Arthur, 
with  an  encouraging  smile,  "or  you  will  hurt  our " 

•*  Sh,  Sh,"  said  Mrs.  Wentworth.  "  Who  begins  to- 
day }  " 

"  It  is  I,"  replied  Anna,  taking  her  place  at  the 
rosewood  table. 


ANNA'S     FIFTH    TALE 

THE    MODERN   MIDAS 

I  OFTEN  Wish  that  1  was  not  a  girl (and  here  so 

great  a  burst  of  laughter  and  exclamation  arose  from 
the  little  ladies  and  gentlemen — Anna's  audience — 
that  for  a  while  she  could  not  go  on  with  a  word  of 
her  story.)  I  do  not  mean  anything  absurd,  I 
believe,  (she  said  at  last,)  but  w^hen  I  look-  at  the 
great  works  of  the  ancient  writers,  and  read  what  is 
said  about  them  in  English  books,  I  often  wish  I  had 
received,  or  was  fitted  to  receive,  such  instruction  as 
might  have  made  it  possible  for  me  to  know  them 
better. 

Q  2 


2  28  FIVE  DAYS'  ENTERTAINMENTS 


Perhaps  you  will  still  think  it  a  foolish  wish — but 
last  night,  when  our  story-telling  was  over,  I  sat  read- 
ing tale  after  tale  of  wonder  in  the  Mythological 
Dictionary,  and  this  it  was  which  made  me  say  what 
I  have  just  said.  For  I  could  not  but  wish  to  place 
myself  face  to  face,  as  it  were,  with  those  great  men 
and  heroes,  and  all  the  inhabitants  of  the  fabled 
Olympus — casting  aside  the  cloudy  air  of  a  feeble 
translation,  as  I  read  of  Troy  and  its  nine  years'  war ; 
and  of  Ulysses  and  his  world-wide  wanderings  :  or, 
again,  of  Tantalus,  and  the  water  that  fled  his  lips, 
and  the  fruit  trees  that  bent  themselves  up  from  his 
grasp,  whilst  he  suffered  the  pains  of  immortal  thirst 
and  immortal  hungrer  ;  or  of  Midas,  that  kini?  to  whom 
it  was  granted  that  all  he  touched  should  be  changed 
into  the  purest  gold,  until  a  universe  of  gold  lay 
around  him,  and  he  perished  from  the  curse  of  a 
seeming  blessing — and  as  I  read,  children,  sleep  came 
over  me,  and  a  dream,  such  as  I  shall  now  tell  you  of, 
presented  itself 

Methought  I  really  was  a  girl  no  longer,  but  a 
spirit,  wandering  up  and  down  in  a  desert  place,  with- 
out knowledge  of  whence  I  had  come,  or  whither  I 
was  going,  for  when  I  tried  to  think  on  these  things, 
a  mist  seemed  to  arise  before  my  mind.  And  as  I 
walked,  I  looked  down,  and  I  saw  that  the  earth 
around  me  was  as  of  hard  iron  ;  and  as  I  gazed 
upwards  on  the  sky,  the  sky  too  appeared  as  an  iron 


y  'HE  MODERN  MI  PA  S  229 


arch  above  me.  And  I  thought,  "  Was  it  always  so  ? 
Was  I  not  once  in  a  fertile  land,  filled  with  trees  and 
flowers,  and  runninrr  water,  and  with  cloud  and  sun- 
shine above  me  ?"  But  this  must  have  been  when  1 
was  a  child,  I  thought,  for  I  can  recall  nothing  of  it 
clearly.  And  then  again  I  looked,  and  lo!  before  me 
lay  a  fair  land,  such  as  that  I  remembered  of  old,  and 
I  hastened  my  steps  that  I  might  reach  it.  But  still, 
as  I  went  onwards,  the  land  seemed  to  flee  before  me, 
and  everything  was  iron  around,  and  I  saw  that  it 
was  the  touch  of  my  own  feet  that  seemed  so  to 
change  it. 

And  presently  I  saw  beside  me  a  form,  as  of  a  fair 
queen  :  old  in  years,  but  of  a  calm  and  lovely  counte- 
nance. And  she  said,  *'  Why  dost  thou  walk  thus  in 
sadness  .^ "  And  I  answered,  "  Because  I  know  not 
whence  I  am,  nor  w^iither  I  go,  nor  wherefore  I  am 
here.  And  my  own  steps  also  terrify  me,  for  thou 
seest  that  at  the  touch  of  my  feet  all  things  change 
their  former  nature." 

'*  Trouble  not  thyself  with  vain  questions,"  said  the 
Queen,  "let  the  evil  of  the  day  suffice  thee  !  1,  too, 
am  journeying  over  this  desert,  and  I  am  sent  to  lead 
thee  to  another  land,  w^here  thou  art  appointed  to  be 
King,  and  to  reign  ;  for  in  this  desert  there  is  no  living 
soul." 

But  I  said,  "  How  can  that  be  ?  for  thou  art  a 
stranger  to  me." 


230  FIVE  DAYS'  ENTERTAINMENTS 


And  she  answered,  "  Remember  the  days  of  thy 
childhood.  When  thou  wert  young  T  was  with  thee, 
for  I  was  as  thine  elder  sister ;  and  I  was  by  thy 
cradle,  though  thou  hast  forgotten  me." 

And  furthermore  the  Queen  said : 

"  I  am  she  that  cries  without,  and  that  utters  her 
voice  in  the  streets.  I  am  more  precious  than  rubies, 
and  all  the  things  that  thou  canst  desire  are  not  to  be 
compared  unto  me." 

And  when  I  looked  on  her  I  said,  *'  It  is  so  as  thou 
sayest.  But  give  me  a  sign,  that  I  may  know  truly 
whether  thou  art  indeed  as  my  sister  .'' "  And  she 
answered,  "Where  thou  art,  all  things  become  iron.; 
but  where  I  am,  all  things  become  gold.  By  this  sign 
thou  mayest  know  that  I  am  of  thy  kindred  and  thy 
father's  house." 

And  it  came  to  pass,  that  as  we  walked  together, 
the  desert  went  from  before  my  eyes,  and  lo ! 
I  was  below  the  earth,  among  the  nation  of  the 
Dwarfs  who  live  in  the  hollows  of  the  rocks,  and 
make  their  home  among  the  clefts  of  the  mountains. 
And  the  Dwarfs  came  to  me,  and  said,  "  Be  thou  our 
King."  And  when  I  said,  *'  Why  should  it  be  so  } " 
they  answered,  "  Because  the  Queen  wills  it."  And  I 
asked,  "  What  is  her  name  }  and  where  does  she 
dwell  } " 

And  they  said  that  her  name  was  known  to  none  ; 
but  it  was  a  name  of  power :  and  that  she  dwelt  in  a 


THE  MODERN  MID  A  S  2  3  I 


golden  palace  in  the  farthest  caverns  of  the  rocks 
where  none  could  see  her.  And  I  said,  *'  Be  it  done 
as  ye  desire." 

Now  the  Dwarfs  arc  placed  in  the  caves  of  the  earth 
that  they  may  labour  at  the  mines  that  are  there,  and 
may  set  all  things  that  are  below  the  ground  in  order, 
and  that  they  may  there  increase  and  multiply  ;  for 
so  it  has  been  enjoined  them.  And  they  have  fields 
and  meadows,  and  rivers  of  water  :  also  the  sun  and 
moon  give  them  light.  And  they  came  to  me  and 
said,  **  O  King,  a  command  has  gone  forth  that  we 
should  prepare  and  build  a  palace,  wherein  the  King 
should  make  his  dwelling-place.  But  we  have  no 
tools  wherewith  to  build  it.  Now,  therefore,  touch 
with  thine  hands  the  rocks,  that  they  may  become 
iron,  and  that  thou  mayest  thence  fashion  us  tools 
that  we  may  hew  the  stones  for  the  palace,  and  thou 
shalt  dwell  in  it,  for  thou  art  our  King." 

And  I  said,  *'  Be  it  so,  as  ye  desire  it."  And  the 
Dwarfs  gathered  themselves  together  about  me  ;  and 
when  I  touched  the  rocks  they  became  as  iron,  and  I 
made  them  tools  w^herewith  they  should  work  the 
work  that  was  appointed  them.  And  they  made  tools 
likewise,  and  they  hewed  out  stones,  and  as  I  taught 
them,  so  they  laid  the  stones  in  order  until  the  foun- 
dations were  now  ready. 

But  m.any  of  the  Dwarfs  came  to  me  and  said,  "Give 
us  food,  for  we   perish  with  hunger!"     And  I  sowed 


232  FI VE  DA  KV  ENTER  TA INMENTS 

them  seed  ;  but  when  it  came  up,  lo !  the  grains  it 
bore  were  of  iron  ;  and  they  murmured  at  me.  But 
I  said,  "  Take  ye  the  seed  and  sow  it,  and  reap  and 
thresh  it  !  for  I  will  give  you  tools  wherewith  ye  may 
dig  the  ground."  And  I  did  so  ;  and  they  ceased  from 
their  murmuring. 

And  they  said  to  me,  "  We  too  have  one  that  serves 
us,  and  if  thou  wilt  she  shall  serve  thee  likewise."  And 
they  brought  unto  me  a  fair  maiden  ;  and  she  laboured 
for  me,  and  cunning  was  in  her  hand,  and  she  wrought 
at  the  palace.  But  yet  she  listened  not  to  my  words, 
nor  did  the  things  that  I  commanded.  And  I  said, 
"  If  thou  wilt  live  with  me,  I  will  teach  thee  many 
things,  and  thou  shalt  be  my  Queen,"  for  I  loved  her. 
But  she  said,  "  Not  }et,  my  Lord,  for  these  things 
may  be  as  they  may  be ;  and  what  shall  happen, 
who  can  tell  V  But  yet  I  loved  her  for  her  skill,  and 
she  was  friendly  to  me.  But  the  work  prospered  not 
as  it  had  prospered  before  ;  nor  was  there  any  end  to 
the  toil  and  to  the  labour. 

And  again  it  came  to  pass  that  other  Dwarfs  wea- 
ried of  the  work  ;  and  they  went  to  those  that  were 
kings  of  old  time  among  them,  and  said,  "  Come,  and 
let  us  drive  out  the  new  King  that  is  among  us,  for  we 
labour  under  him,  and  our  lives  are  a  weariness  to  us." 
And  further  they  said,  that  I  had  changed  the  cus- 
toms and  manners  which  their  father  had  given  them, 
and   commanded   them  to  build  me  a  palace  such  as 


THE  MODERN  MIDAS  233 

none  had  seen  before,  and  that  when  it  was  built  I 
should  live  in  it  and  be  their  King  :  and  that  I  sh(juld 
take  away  the  kingdom  from  those  who  had  ruled 
them  of  old  time,  and  make  them  my  hired  servants. 

And  when  the  Kings  heard  this,  they  were  wrathful 
against  me,  and  they  gathered  together  their  armies 
and  eame  forth  to  meet  me.  And  I  gathered  together 
my  army — even  those  whom  I  had  fed — and  I  went 
forth  to  meet  them.  And  also  the  maiden  whom  I 
loved  said,  "Shall  I  go  with  thee.?"  And  I  said, 
"  Abide  where  thou  art,  for  thy  place  is  not  among 
the  fighting-men."  And  when  1  saw  the  Kings  they 
seemed  to  me  as  Dwarfs — even  as  Dwarfs  among  the 
other  Dwarfs. 

And  before  the  battle  began,  I  lifted  up  my  voice 
and  cried, — 

"In  the  name  of  the  great  Queen,  hear  me  !  For  I 
come  not  to  take  away  your  power  and  authority  ; 
and  if  any  say  so,  they  speak  falsely.  For  my  gifts 
— the  gifts  of  my  hands — are  they  not  for  all  alike  } 
Nor  is  there  any  that  labour  under  me  that  shall  fail 
of  their  due  reward.  For  such  are  the  laws  of  my 
kingdom." 

But  the  Kings  believed  me  not.  And  they  spoke 
to  their  counsellor,  even  to  the  Giant,  and  said, 
"Shall  we  go  out  to  fight,  or  shall  we  not  }  " 

Now  this  counsellor  was  an  aged  man,  and  Qf 
stature  as  the  stature  of  the  giants.     And  whilst  the 


2  34  FIVE  DAYS'  ENTERTAINMENTS 


morning  lasted,  and  the  sun  was  high,  I  saw  him  not, 
but  as  the  sun  went  down,  I  saw  him ;  and  he  was 
tall,  and  dark  of  colour.  And  his  shadow  fell  upon 
my  armies,  upon  the  soldiers  that  were  with  me  ;  and 
they  trembled,  and  said,  "  Help  us,  O  King,  for  the 
shadow  of  the  enemy,  and  winter,  is  upon  us."  But 
when  I  stretched  forth  my  hands,  lo !  I  stretched 
them  forth  in  vain,  for  over  shadows  I  had  no  power. 
Then  I  said,  '*  Let  us  shelter  ourselves  within  the 
palace  :  for  the  fight  is  not  the  fight  of  swords,  nor 
of  the  strength  that  wields  them."  And  they  went 
within  the  palace,  even  mine  army,  and  I  closed  the 
doors  behind  them  :  and  as  I  closed  them,  lo !  the 
walls  became  as  of  iron,  firmly  knit  and  wrought 
together.  Then  came  those  Kings  and  fought  against 
the  palace,  and  prevailed  not,  for  it  was  as  a  palace  of 
adamant. 

But  I  went  within  the  palace,  to  the  farthest  room, 
and  there  kneeling  down,  I  prayed  to  the  great 
Queen,  and  I  said,  "  Grant  me  skill  and  power  that  I 
may  make  all  things  golden  before  the  enemy,  even 
as  thou  doest,  and  may  turn  their  hearts ; "  for  I 
thought  that  when  they  saw  the  gold  their  hearts 
would  turn  and  I  should  prevail  over  them. 

But  a  voice  answered  and  said  (but  the  speaker, 
even  the  Queen,  I  saw  not)  : — 

"  Though  thou  knowest  all  things,  and  art  skilful, 
yet  shalt  not  thou  prevail. 


THE  MOn/CRX  MIDAS 


*'  And  though  I  be  wise  in  all  thin^^s,  and  heavenly, 
yet  shall  not  I  prevail. 

"  Thou  shalt  not  prevail  over  them  with  iron  ;  for 
man  cannot  live  thereby. 

"  And  thou  shalt  not  prevail  over  them  with  gold  ; 
for  it  is  not  the  gold  of  this  earth,  and  they  know 
not  its  value. 

"  Nor  can  I  give  thee  aid  until  thou  shalt  put  from 
thy  mind  her  whom  thou  lovest,  and  shalt  seek  out 
the  fair  maiden  who  dwells  in  the  innermost  part  of 
the  earth,  and  orders  all  things,  and  has  the  Crystal 
of  Wonder :  and  shalt  persuade  her  to  love  thee,  and 
join  herself  to  thee,  and  be  thy  Queen." 

And  I  asked  again, 

"  Give  me  a  sign,  that  I  may  know  where  she  dwells, 
for  I  know  it  not." 

And  the  Queen  answered, 

"  The  hammer  falls  on  the  anvil,  and  such  is  the 
music  of  the  heavens." 

Now  it  came  to  pass  when  I  heard  this,  that  I  went 
forth  from  the  palace,  and  I  took  my  way  through 
waste  places  to  the  centre  of  the  earth.  And  so  it 
was  in  the  dream  :  for  a  thousand  years  went  by,  and 
my  path  was  through  a  winding  way  or  a  labyrinth, 
so  that  I  saw  not  whence  I  came,  nor  whither  I  went  ; 
and  my  feet  were  torn  with  the  thorns,  and  my  flesh 
was  consumed  with  hunger.  Moreover,  my  old  power 
had  well-nigh  gone  from  me. 


236  FIVE  DAYS'  ENTERTAINMENTS 


And  when  I  had  now  fulfilled  my  journeyings  I 
entered  a  cave,  wherein  stood  one  in  the  likeness  of  a 
smith,  and  he  struck  on  an  anvil  with  the  hammer, 
and  he  forged  thence  wonderful  things  that  were 
around  him.  And  about  him  lay  seas,  and  rivers,  and 
mountains,  and  trees,  and  flowers,  and  grass  of  the 
field,  and  the  living  creatures  that  dwell  among  them  : 
and  they  were  the  work  of  his  hands.  And  as  he 
struck  with  the  hammer,  lo  !  there  came  forth  music, 
and  it  was  of  sweetness  such  as  is  not  heard  on 
earth  :  and  as  I  listened,  my  strength  forsook  me, 
and  I  fell  on  the  ground,  for  the  pain  of  that 
pleasure. 

And  when  I  came  to  myself,  behold  !  a  fair  maiden 
stood  by  me :  and  when  I  saw  her,  lo  !  the  counte  • 
nance  of  that  other  one  departed  from  me,  that  I 
remembered  her  no  more. 

And  she  said,  "  Fear  not,  for  I  know  thee  who  thou 
art.  Was  I  not  by  thee  when  thou  wast  born,  and 
cared  for  thee,  and  taught  thee  many  things  .''  " 

And  I  said,  ''  Art  thou  she  of  whom  the  Queen  has 
spoken  to  me  }  " 

And  thereupon  she  said,  "  I  will  give  thee  a  sign, 
that  thou  mayest  know  me,  whom  I  am." 

And  the  maiden  stretched  forth  her  hand,  and  in 
it  was  a  precious  stone,  clear  as  crystal.  And  when 
I  placed  it  before  my  eyes,  and  looked,  lo  !  I  beheld 
the  earth,  and  all  that  was  thereupon  :  nor  needed  I 


THE  MODERN  .^flDAS  237 

to  turn  my  eyes  hither  and  thither,  for  all  thini^s  I 
saw  together,  and  as  it  were  at  one  c^lance.  Also 
I  saw  the  labyrinth  through  which  I  had  passed  ;  and 
it  lay  straight  and  open  before  me.  And  again,  I 
saw  the  Dwarfs — even  those  amongst  whom  I  had 
dwelt — and  behold  !  there  was  no  more  war  amongst 
them,  but  they  dwelt  peaceably,  each  in  his  own 
habitation  :  and  the  maiden  had  departed  from 
among  them,  that  I  saw  her  not. 

Then  said  I  to  the  maiden  that  was  by  me, 
'*  Thou  art  she  whom  the  Queen  bade  me  that  I 
should  seek  for."  But  she  answered,  "  I  am  poor  and 
simple  ;  nor  have  I  aught,  but  only  this  crystal.  I 
will  not  therefore  go  with  thee,  but  wait  a  while,  until 
the  times  shall  come  and  my  wealth  shall  return  to 
me — even  the  worlds  and  all  that  is  in  them." 

Then  I  said,  "  I  hunger  and  thirst,  and  lo  !  all 
things  are  iron  around  me — nor  does  my  might  and 
my  skill  profit  me  aught.  But  when  shall  these 
things  be  whereof  thou  speakest  .-^  " 

And  she  answered, — 

"  The  Whole  is  scattered  in  its  Parts  ;  nor  do  the 
Parts  make  up  the  Whole.  But  when  the  Whole  shall 
be  returned  unto  itself,  then  shall  these  things  be. 
For  there  are  Four  on  earth — the  Queen,  whom  thou 
sawest  on  thy  journeyings,  and  whose  dwelling  is  in 
the  Golden  Palace ;  and  He  that  wrought  in  the 
cavern  :  and  thou  too  art  one  of  us.     But  we  are  held 


238  FIVE  DAYS'  ENTERTAINMENTS 

asunder  from  each  other :  wait  thou  therefore,  for  art 
thou  not  the  youngest  one  ?  " 

And  furthermore  she  said, 

"  Lift  up  thine  eyes,  and  tell  me  what  thou 
seest." 

And  I  said, 

"  I  see  a  palace  chamber :  and  on  the  wall  thereof 
I  see  words  written — even  these  :  '  Art  loved  Chance  ; 
but  Law  is  the  path  of  wisdom.' 

"  But  what  is  the  interpretation  thereof  ?  " 

And  she  answered, 

"  The  words  are  dark,  and  their  meaning  is  hidden 
away  from  thee.  But  wait  till  those  things  be 
whereof  I  have  spoken  to  thee.  And  then  shalt 
thou  know  the  meaning  of  the  words  :  but  if  I 
taught  thee  in  them  now,  thou  wouldest  not  profit 
thereby,  for  their  interpretation  is  not  for  Time,  but 
for  Eternity." 

*'  What  strange  dreams  you  dear  children  have," 
said  Mrs.  Wentworth ;  *'  I  suppose  it  is  something  in 
the  air  of  Miss  Cobham's  house,  is  it  not,  that  breeds 
them  } " 

**  Say  rather,  the  air  of  the  holidays,"  replied  Anna. 
"  But  as  there  is  '  no  law  to  judge  of  the  lawless,  or 
canon  by  which  a  dream  may  be  criticised,'  I  must 
beg  for  a  gentle  sentence." 

''  But  how  could  you  go  in  a  dream  into  the  middle 


THE  MODERN  MIDAS  239 


of  the  cartli,  the  very  middle  ? "  asked  Lucy.  "  I 
suppose  you  never  were  there  ?  What  a  stran^r^  place 
it  must  be." 

'*  I  fancy  we  must  not  ask  for  explanations  of  the 
circumstances  of  the  story,  any  more  than  the  meaning 
of  the  riddle,"  said  Arthur.  **  I  thought  as  I  heard 
you,  I  caught  hints  and  touches  of  something  beyond  : 
of  something  that  is  or  might  be, 

That  touches  me  with  mystic  gleams 
Like  glimpses  of  forgotten  dreams. 
Of  something  felt,  like  something  here ; 
Of  something  done,  I  know  not  where, 
Such  as  no  language  may  declare — 

as  the  great  poet  says." 

"  It  was  not  perhaps  exactly  of  this  world,  the 
downright  geographical  earth,  that  I  was  thinking," 
replied  Anna,  hesitating. 

"  You  must  not  put  her  upon  interpretation," 
observed  Mrs.  Wentworth.  "  A  true  allegory,  such 
as  I  take  it  Anna  means  hers  to  be,  is  not  something 
which  you  can,  so  to  speak,  translate  into  a  direct 
prose  meaning,  and  find  for  every  particular  an  exact 
and  literal  equivalent.  It  must  not  be  a  tale  which 
requires  a  mere  change  of  names  to  transfer  it  from 
fiction  to  fact.  Rather  it  is  something  wdiich  is  at 
once  the  reality  and  the  semblance  ;  and  which  leaves 
on  the  mind  an  impression  all  the  more  strong 
because  it  is  an  indirect  and  enigmatic  teaching." 


240  FIVE  DA  YS'  ENTERTAINMENTS 


"  Like  Parrhasius'  picture  in  my  Mythological 
Dictionary,  I  suppose,"  said  Anna. 

"  What  was  that  ? "  asked  the  little  ones,  ever 
ready  to  smuggle  in  a  tale  extraordinary,  and  as  it 
were  to  heap  up  pleasure  with  pleasure. 

"  Is  Eleanor  ready  ? "  replied  she.  '*  No,  not  quite, 
as  usual !     Well  then  : 

"  Parrhasius  was  a  Greek  painter ;  and  he  and 
Apelles,  another  Greek  painter,  disputed  as  to  which 
of  the  two  was  the  better  artist.  Apelles  painted 
some  grapes,  so  naturally,  that  the  birds  flew  in  and 
pecked  at  them. 

"■ '  What  have  you  to  show  me  now  ^ '  said  he  to 
Parrhasius,  with  an  air  of  triumph. 

"  *  Oh  !  nothing,  nothing,'  said  he  ;  '  but  there  is  my 
picture,  such  as  it  is,'  pointing  to  the  wall  opposite. 

"  *  There  ! — but  where  } '  replied  Apelles.  '  Oh  !  I 
see:  draw  the  curtain,  Parrhasius,  and  let  me  see  it.' 

"  *  The  curtain  is  the  picture,'  said  Parrhasius  ;  and 
so  they  shook  hands  and  parted." 

"  Now  draw  up  your  curtain,  Eleanor,"  said  Charles, 
"  we  are  ready." 

"  You  have  almost  put  my  ideas  to  flight,  with 
your  fine  old  classical  story,"  replied  she,  taking  her 
place  at  the  table. 


r/iivs  OFF  241 


ELEANOR'S  FIFTH  TALE 


PAWS   OFF 


The  housemaid  whispered  it  to  the  scullery-maid, 
and  the  scullery-maid  whispered  it  to  the  cook. 
"  What  nonsense  these  young  ladies  take  into  their 
noddle-heads,"  said  she.  "  No,  I  declare  I  won't  stand 
it  any  longer,  that  I  won't !  If  Missus  won't  teach 
Miss  better  manners,  I'll  give  her  warning  to-morrow, 
that  I  will." 

"  There's  no  standing  her  fandingoes,"  replied 
the  housemaid,  handing  the  cook  a  long  bottle  of 
rosewater. 

"  What  a  sweet  delicate  mind  your  dear  Augusta 
has,"  said  Mrs.  Jones  to  Mrs.  Brown  at  this  moment, 
as  they  sat  together  in  the  drawing-room. 

"  She  is  such  a  sensitive  creature,  dear  Gusta  is," 
answered  the  lady.  "  Do  you  know,  she  makes  our 
cook  wash  her  hands  in  scent  first,  before  she  sets 
about  her  work  ;  she  says  cook's  hands  always  smell 
of  onions." 

'*  So  delicate,  so  refined  a  feeling,"  replied  her 
friend,  taking  a  pinch  of  snuff,  as  some  old-fashioned 
ladies    and    gentlemen    will    still  do.     If  they  could 


242  FIVE  DA  YS'  ENTERTAINMENTS 

only  see  themselves  doing  it  !  "  Dear  Augusta,  I 
am  afraid  if  she  saw  me  she  would  think  me  a 
pure  barbarian.  But  you  know,  old  people,  like 
me " 

"  She  would  not  allow  you  that  excuse,  at  least," 
said  Mrs.  Brown, 

"  Dear  Mrs.  Brown,  you  are  so  funny  !  but  she  has 
at  any  rate  her  sensibility  by  inheritance." 

"  Dear  Mrs.  Jones,"  answered  her  friend,  affection- 
ately pressing  her  hand,  "  If  you  could  but  tell  what 
parents  have  to  go  through !  There's  John  now  just 
come  home,  and  he  afflicts  me  so,  I  don't  know  how 
to  bear  it.  He  is  so  cruel  and  coarse-minded  !  Now, 
would  you  believe  it,  he  says  of  that  dear  sister  of  his, 
that  she  has  so  many  fancies,  that  if  she  is  not  cured 
of  them  she  will  lose  her  senses  :  her  common  sense 
first,  he  says,  and  then  her  other  senses  after^vards." 

''  Shocking,  indeed,"  said  Mrs.  Jones. 

*'  And  then  he  tells  a  story — a  shocking  story — that 
he  does,  Mrs.  Jones,  of  a  madman  in  a  hospital  who 
believed  he  was  made  of  glass,  and  would  let  nobody 
touch  him  for  fear  he  should  crack  him,  while,  to  be 
sure,  poor  man,  he  was  cracked  already." 

"You  are  always  so  funny,  dear  Mrs.  Brown." 

"  My  late  husband,  poor  Mr.  B.,  used  always  to  say 
so,  my  dear,"  continued  the  lady.  "But,  as  I  was 
saying,  the  doctors  did  not  know  how  they  should 
cure  the  poor  madman,  and  they  consulted  together ; 


PAWS  OFF  243 


and  then  tlicy  rolled  the  man  downstairs,  in  order  to 
show  him  that  he  would  not  break  in  pieces.  Nor 
did  he,  my  dear,  that  I  can  assure  you  ;  but  when 
they  went  down  to  the  landin^^-placc  they  found  him 
lying  dead." 

"  But  you  were  saying  something  about  dear  Au- 
gusta," observed  Mrs.  Jones. 

''  So  I  am  now,  my  dear.  John  tells  her  that  she 
will  go  mad,  and  lose  her  senses,  if  she  does  not  have 
a  care,  but  indulges  in  her  sentimentalisms :  so  he  calls 
them.  You  know,  my  late  husband,  poor  Mr.  B.  was 
a  furrier  by  trade,  and  honestly  too  he  came  by  his 
money,  Mrs.  J.  It  was  he  who  brought  in  the  well- 
known  Minx  Albertines,  you  know  ;  but  he  never 
made  them  up  of  c-tsk-n  :  no  :  his  feelings  were  above 
that,  I  can  assure  you." 

"  But  dear  Augusta." 

'*  That's  just  what  I  was  saying,  my  dear.  Dear 
Augusta,  you  should  have  seen  her  when  she  was  a 
child,  dear  Mrs.  Jones,  that  you  should,  such  a  little 
angel  as  she  was  ;  and  then  such  pretty  things  as  she 
used  to  wear.  Her  papa,  poor  Mr.  B.,  my  late  hus- 
band, he  would  never  let  her  dress  in  anything  but 
the  best ;  that  I  can  assure  you  of  It  would  have 
warmed  your  fingers  on  a  cold  day  to  see  her,  all  in 
her  furs  —  real  sable,  real  ermine,  no  black  kittens' 
tails  sewed  upon  rabbit — from  top  to  toe.  And  then 
she  was  such  a  sensitive  little  creature  !     /  am  sure 


244  FIVE  DA  YS'  ENTERTAINMENTS 

that  child  ivill  7tcvcr  grozv  tip,  I  used  to  say  to  poor 
Mr.  B.  ;  she  is  too  good  for  earth." 

"  It  must  be  quite  a  relief  to  you  to  see  her  appe- 
tite," observed  Mrs.  Jones,  breaking  in  on  the  con- 
versation for  a  moment ;  "  she  took  to  those  dumplings 
at  dinner,  quite — quite  cordially,  I  may  say." 

"  And  so  she  did,"  replied  her  friend.  "  Between 
ourselves,  Augusta  is  no  fool ;  I  can  assure  you  of  it. 
But  she  was  so  sensitive,  dear  Gusta,  as  I  was  telling 
you !  One  day,  when  she  was  walking  out  with  John 
(he  was  a  little  boy  then,  come  home  for  the  holidays, 
in  his  first  straps),  dressed  in  her  furs,  as  I  was  saying, 
she  went  past  the  parish  school.  '  There's  a  little 
duchess,'  cried  one  child  ;  that  she  did,  I  can  assure 
you,  Mrs.  Jones — they  all  admired  her  so.  '  I'll  war- 
rant you,  quite  a  muff,'  said  another.  And  do  you 
know,  dear  Gusta,  she  was  so  sensitive  and  so  modest 
that  she  could  not  bear  the  compliment }  But  what 
should  she  do  but  run  home  and  tell  her  papa  to  go 
and  order  the  master  to  beat  the  boy  well  who  had 
said  so.  '  She  could  not  bear  such  remarks  to  be 
made  on  her  in  the  street,'  she  said  ;  *  it  harrowed  up 
her  best  feelings.'  But  all  that's  altered  now,  you  know, 
Mrs.  Jones.  Do  you  know  she  can't  bear  the  sight  of 
fur  now — no,  nor  the  very  name  of  it !  And  she  says 
if  she  wore  any  she  would  go  into  fits  for  certain. 
Oh,  you  should  see  her  when  the  cat  comes  into  the 
room,  that  you  should  !     And  then,  John's  great  New- 


PAIVS  OFF  245 


foundland,  Crib,  she  cannot  bear  the  sight  of  him. 
She  declares  it  makes  her  wretched  to  think  of  the 
sufferings  of  the  poor  people  in  those  hot  countries 
he  comes  from  ;  that  she  docs,  1  can  assure  you." 

"  She  is  a  delicate,  philanthropic  creature,  that  she 
is,"  replied  Mrs.  Jones. 

"And  so  sensitive!"  replied  Mrs.  Brown. 

*'  There's  a  new  fandingo  of  Miss  Augusta's  !"  cried 
the  housemaid  to  the  cook,  throwing  down  a  basket 
of  linen  on  the  kitchen  floor. 

"Well,  what  now.?"  said  she,  turning  to  the  fire; — 
"  la,  this  goose,  how  fat  he  roasts." 

"I  should  like  to  roast  her,  that  1  should!"  con- 
tinued the  maid.  "  She  is  a  Miss  Disguster  ;  that  she 
is  !  Do  you  know  now,  she  says  I  must  wash  all 
these  things  of  hers  again,  and  all  for  and  because  the 
cat  jumped  over  the  linen-basket  as  it  stood  by  her 
room  door !" 

"  That's  what  I  call  a  fandingo,  that  I  do  ! "  .said  the 
cook. 

"  And  she  says  I  may  not  wash  the  cat  any  more, 
as  Missus  tells  me  to  do  every  Saturday  evening ;  nor 
comb  the  fleas  out  of  her — poor  beast.  Miss  Augusta 
says  no  maid  of  hers  may  touch  /ler  hair  after  she  has 
done  such  work." 

"  I  declare  I  would  stand  it  no  longer,  if  you  was 
me,"  replied  the  cook. 


246  FIVE  DA  YS'  ENTERTAINMENTS 

"  But  I  will  wash  poor  puss,  that  I  will,"  answered 
the  maid  ;  "  and  Crib  too,  dear  old  dog,"  said  she, 
running  up  to  Crib  as  she  spoke,  and  hugging  him 
round  the  neck. 

At  this  moment  the  door  opened,  and  in  walked 
Master  Brown  and  Miss  Brown. 

"  La  !  you  here,  Miss  ! "  said  the  cook  ;  "  you  know 
Missus  will  turn  me  out  of  doors  if  she  hears  of  it." 

"  Yes,  but  dear  mamma  need  not  know,"  answered 
the  young  lady.  "  Down,  Crib  ;  down,  nasty  brute  ! 
paws  off !  "  screamed  she  ;  "  paws  off !  "  as  the  dog 
jumped  up  and  thrust  his  honest  hairy  nose  against 
Augusta's  face. 

'*  Do  call  your  dog  off,  John,"  continued  she, — "  paws 
off,  you  brute  ! — and  whip  him  well." 

"  Whip  Crib  !  No,  that  I  won't,"  said  he,  putting 
his  hands  behind  his  back.  "  Dear  old  fellow  ;  he 
meant  no  mischief" 

"  Then  I'll— I'll— I'll  tell  you  what,"  cried  his  sister 
passionately,  "  I  mean  mischief ;  and  I'll  do  it  when  I 
mean  it.  I'll  run  away  from  the  house  and  hide 
myself,  and  see  then  what  you  will  have  to  say  to 
mamma !  "  And  off  she  went,  banging  the  door 
behind  her. 

Augusta  ran  out  across  the  garden,  through  the 
little  green  gate,  up  the  field  lane,  and  so  out  into  the 
wood  beyond,  before  she  had  well  thought  of  what 
she  was  doing,  or  made  up  her  mind  what  kind  of 


PAIVS  OFF  247 


mischief  it  was  to  be.  When  at  last  her  anger  began 
to  cool,  "What  a  nice  thing  it  will  be  to  be  lost!" 
thought  she.  '*  How  mamma  will  be  frightened  ! 
And  then  all  the  servants  will  come  out  with  lights  to 
hunt  for  me  when  it  grows  dark,  just  as  they  did 
for  Valentine  in  the  story."  And  down  she  sat  for 
three-quarters  of  an  hour,  to  reflect  on  how  romantic, 
high,  and  delicately  minded  a  young  lady  was  Miss 
Augusta  Brown,  the  famous  R — g — t  Street  furrier's 
daughter. 

But  after  a  while  she  rose ;  and  walking  on, 
presently  came  to  a  little  space  where  the  trees  had 
been  lately  felled.  She  had  smelt  something  of 
smoke  through  the  bushes  as  she  walked,  and  she 
now  saw  a  little  wood  fire,  that  seemed  lately  kin- 
dled. By  it  sat  a  poor  boy,  w^hose  face  was  much 
blackened  with  smoke  or  ashes,  holding  in  his  arms 
what  appeared  to  be  a  cat,  suffering  from  injury  that 
it  had  received. 

"  Do  look  at  my  poor  puss,"  said  the  boy,  starting 
up  and  running  to  Augusta;  "she  has  been  torn  by 
the  hawk  !  Do,  pray,  Miss,  lend  me  your  handkerchief 
to  tie  up  her  wounds  ?     See  how  she  bleeds  !  " 

"  Paw^s  off,  dirty  child  !  "  said  Augusta,  shrink- 
ing back  ;  "  you  hurt  my  feelings — indeed  you  do. 
I  cannot  bear  to  see  an  animal  suffer  so." 

"  Oh,  Miss,  do  pray  be  so  kind  !  "  continued  the 
boy  ;  "  and  do  tell  me  how  to  get  out  of  this  wood. 


248  FIVE  DA  YS'  ENTERTAINMENTS 


for  I've  lost   my  way,  and  don't    know  whereabouts 
I  be." 

"  Do  take  your  hands  off  me  1  Don't  let  the  cat 
touch  me  !  oh,  don't ! "  screamed  Augusta,  half  in 
alarm.  "  I  have  nothing  for  you,  indeed  I  have  not," 
and  off  she  ran  into  the  wood. 

Augusta  had  indulged  her  fancies  till  she  hardly 
knew  how  to  govern  them  ;  but  she  was  rather  a  foolish 
girl  than  wicked  or  cruel,  and  already  she  had  begun 
to  feel  half  ashamed  of  herself  and  of  her  conduct, 
when,  looking  up,  she  saw,  that  although  it  was  yet 
only  the  afternoon,  the  sky  was  dark  with  clouds  and 
a  storm  was  clearly  approaching.  On  she  ran  in  good 
earnest  to  escape  it,  and  presently  she  found  that  she 
had  really  altogether  lost  her  way.  For  the  wood  was 
tolerably  large,  and  she  did  not  know  the  paths  except 
in  that  part  which  lay  immediately  near  her  mother's 
house.  She  called,  and  shrieked  ;  and  then  she  sat 
down  and  cried  violently,  and  then  she  called  again  ; 
but  nothing  answered  her. 

Augusta  now  started  up  and  ran  violently  through 
bush  and  brake  till  her  feet  stumbled,  and  she  fell 
against  a  little  bank  which  had  been  hidden  from  her 
sight  in  the  thick  weeds  and  brambles  which  grew 
upon  it.  As  she  lifted  herself  up,  she  fancied  she 
heard  a  sound  as  of  footsteps  behind  her.  In  the 
greatest  fear  she  forced  her  way  desperately  up  the 
bank,  and  then  with  a  sudden  plunge  over  the  other 


PAIVS  OFF  249 


side  she  found  herself,  as  soon  as  she  could  think 
where  she  was,  stick ins^  fast  in  a  p(jol  of  stand in<j^ 
water. 

The  poor  child  struggled,  but  in  vain,  to  reach  the 
bank  ;  her  strength  failed  her,  and  she  sank  fairly 
below  the  surface.  But  she  still  fought,  as  it  were 
blindly,  with  the  water,  and  grasped  it  in  her  hands. 
A  roaring  sound  filled  her  ears ;  a  crimson  light 
floated  before  her  eyes  ;  she  became  insensible,  and 
la}'  motionless  as  one  that  was  dead. 

And  then — as  those  who  have  been  drowned  and 
recovered  tell  us — her  soul  seemed  suddenly  to  return 
to  her,  and  she  awoke  to  a  feeling  of  painless  calm 
and  happiness.  While  her  bodily  eyes  were  fast 
closed,  the  days  of  her  life  passed  before  her  mind  in 
a  kind  of  vision,  painted  and  impressed  upon  her  with 
the  utmost  force  and  brilliancy.  The  existence  of 
many  years  was  collected  into  a  single  instant. 

And  then  the  struggle  and  the  confusion  came  over 
her  again,  she  knew  not  how ;  violent  agony  and 
gasping  seemed  to  break  up  the  pleasant  dream — or 
rather,  so  vividly  had  that  vision  presented  itself,  she 
seemed  to  wake  from  reality  to  dreaming. 

She  was  indeed  saved  ;  brought  ashore,  as  she  pre- 
sently knew,  as  her  senses  returned  to  her,  in  the 
rough  but  kindly  grasp  of  her  brother's  great  New- 
foundland. And  she  was  lying  on  the  grass  by  the 
water's  edge,  while  some  one's  hands — so  dazzled  and 


250  FIVE  DAYS'  ENTERTAINMENTS 

confused  was  she  at  first,  she  knew  not  whose  — 
propped  up  her  head,  and  poured  something  down 
her  throat  that  seemed  to  restore  her  fainting  strength. 
Augusta  sat  up ;  but  instead  of  her  brother — whom  the 
sight  of  the  dog,  as  he  ran  up  to  Hck  her  hands  with 
joy  at  an  escape  from  a  danger  which  he  appeared 
well  to  comprehend,  made  her  fancy  must  be  near — 
she  saw  by  her  only  the  poor  boy  whom,  but  a  few 
minutes  before,  she  had  treated  with  such  unkindness 
in  the  forest.  But  a  few  minutes  indeed  had  passed, 
but  they  appeared  almost  years  to  Augusta,  and  they 
truly  wrought  on  her  the  effect  of  years.  As  she 
looked  on  him,  a  deep  feeling  of  shame  came  over 
her. 

"  You  have  indeed  done  what  I  did  not  deserve," 
said  she,  sobbing,  for  she  now  observed  that  his 
clothes  were  dripping  with  water,  and  that  he,  no  less 
than  the  brave  dog,  had  assisted  to  save  her. 

"  It  was  only  what  one  fellow-creature  should  do 
for  another,"  said  he.  ''You  were  indeed  near  doing 
yourself  a  mischief  in  good  earnest,  Miss." 

Augusta  hardly  noticed  his  words.  She  had  turned 
to  the  dog,  who  placed  his  paws,  for  joy,  against  her, 
whilst  she  patted  and  caressed  him. 

*'  And  do  you  really  forgive  Crib  } "  said  the  boy. 
"  Poor  fellow,  shall  I  whip  him  }  " 

"  How  is  it  you  seem  to  know  so  much  about 
me } "    answered    she  ;    and    every   moment   she    felt 


PAIFS  OFF  251 


a  deeper  shame  and  repentance  for  her  former 
conduct. 

"  Oh,  every  one  hereabouts  knows  of  Miss  Augusta," 
said  he,  turning  aside  his  face,  ahiiost  as  if  lie  could 
not  restrain  something  of  a  laugh. 

Augusta  now  found  her  old  vain,  foolish  self  rising 
within  her.  It  was  not  quite  conquered.  She  felt 
almost  angry  with  the  boy — such  a  poor,  ragged  boy, 
too — for  his  familiarity,  nay,  for  the  very  knowledge 
he  seemed  to  have  about  her.  And  yet  he  had  saved 
her  life. 

She  looked  down  steadily  and  earnestly  for  a 
moment,  and  then,  in  a  low  tone  of  voice,  she 
said — 

"  I  know  it ;  I  am  to  blame.  I  have  shown  my  folly 
to  every  one  ;  and  if  all  men  know  it,  much  more — 
much  more — must  it  be  known — elsewdiere."  And  she 
burst  into  a  flood  of  tears. 

"  Dear,  dear  Augusta,  dear  sister,"  cried  the  boy, 
suddenly,  turning  and  taking  her  by  the  hand,  "  look 
up  ;  it  is  indeed  I, — it  is  indeed  your  brother." 

Augusta  rose  up  quickly,  put  her  arms  round  his 
neck,  and  kissed  him  without  speaking. 

Then  the  brother  and  sister  went  home  together  ; 
and  if  I  were  to  give  you  the  next  conversation  that 
took  place  in  the  servants'  hall,  you  would  see  that 
the  lesson  of  that  afternoon  was  not  thrown  away 
upon  the  young  sentimentalist. 


252  FIVE  DA  YS'  ENTERTAINMENTS 

It  was  now  Charles's  turn.  But  before  he  began  his 
story,  he  begged  the  company  present  to  pardon  him, 
if  they  should  think  his  tale  too  wild  and  improbable, 
for  such  he  feared  it  might  be. 

''You  need  not  apologize  for  a  fairy  tale,  if  that  be 
your  meaning,"  said  Mrs.  Wentworth.  "  On  the  last 
day,  I  am  sure  every  one  will  feel  that,  if  every 
one  favoured  us  with  wonderful  stories,  it  would 
be  but  a  slight  offence  against  the  rules  you  have 
arranged  for  your  own  government." 

Charles  observed  that  he  had  found  the  difficulties 
which  Anna  had  pointed  out,  in  regard  to  the  fifth 
sense,  press  upon  him ;  and  then,  unfolding  his  papers 
— Charles  never  spoke  without  notes,  the  children 
noticed  —  without  further  hesitation  he  began  his 
story. 


CHARLES'  FIFTH  TALE 

THE   WHITE   SNAKE 

Lenardo  went  to  pass  the  night  at  an  old  country- 
house,  which  was  commonly  said  by  the  neighbours 
to  be  haunted.  He  felt  very  sad,  for  it  was  many  days 
since  he  had  heard  anything  of  the  lady  of  his  love,  the 
fair  Blanche.    People  said  that  she  had  left  her  father's 


THE  WHITE  SNAKE  253 

house,  and  gone  they  knew  not  whither  ;  and  as  he 
had  separated  from  her  with  something  Hke  angry- 
words  on  his  part,  he  now  felt  doubly  grieved,  and 
often  blamed  himself  for  his  want  of  affection. 

"  It  was  my  caprice,"  he  thought.  *' Why  should  I 
wish  her  wiser  than  she  is,  as  if  love  went  by  learning! 
Now  I  am  justly  punished  ;  but,  oh  !  when  shall  I  see 
the  dear  face  again  ? " 

And  as  his  mind  was  thus,  Lenardo  raised  no  objec- 
tions when  the  people  of  the  house  led  him  for  the 
night  into  a  room  which  they  said  lay  next  to  the 
haunted  chamber,  only  w^arning  him,  as  he  valued  his 
life,  not  to  unclose  the  door  that  opened  into  it. 

'*  Whoever  received  such  an  order,  I  wonder,"  said 
Charles,  "without  instantly  desiring  to  break  it.^" 

But  Lenardo  was  so  full  of  sadness  that  he  felt 
little  or  no  curiosity  to  enter  the  haunted  room.  So, 
however,  it  was  not  to  be.  For,  as  he  lay  awake,  and 
went  over  in  his  mind  all  that  had  lately  happened, 
the  thought  arose  that,  as  he  could  not  well  be  more 
miserable  than  he  then  was,  let  what  might  befall  him, 
he  would  still  try  his  fortune. 

"Perhaps  some  good  may  come  of  it — who  knows .^" 
said  he  to  himself,  as  he  slowly  directed  his  steps 
towards  the  forbidden  door,  and  unclosed  it. 

A  little  room  was  within,  with  blank,  ghostly- 
looking  walls,  on  which  the  flames  of  Lenardo's  half- 
extinguished  fire  cast  a  flickering  glare. 


2  54  FIVE  DAYS'  ENTERTAINMENTS 

"  It  is  empty  now,  at  least,"  thought  he ;  but  as  he 
thought,  a  Hght  from  one  corner  flashed  on  his  sight. 
He  looked  earnestly,  and  saw  now  a  white  snake,  who 
lay  there  coiled  closely  up,  and  was  gazing  on  him 
fixedly  with  its  small,  brilliant  eyes. 

''  Poor  creature,  it  has  received  some  wound,"  he 
thought,  as  he  gazed  on  it  more  nearly,  and  saw  the 
blood  oozing  from  it  in  a  small  crimson  stream. 
"  Some  one  has  injured  thee,  poor  creature,"  he  said  ; 
and  gently  lifting  it,  he  bound  up  the  wound  with  his 
handkerchief.  But  in  so  doing,  a  drop  of  the  blood 
fell  on  Lenardo's  fingers  ;  he  raised  his  hand  thought- 
lessly to  wipe  it  off,  but  as  he  did  so,  he  touched  his 
lips,  and  at  once  the  snake  disappeared,  and  he  found 
himself  in  utter  darkness.  Then  he  felt  his  way  back 
into  his  own  room,  his  old  sad  thoughts  returned  to 
him,  and  falling  into  a  deep  slumber,  he  scarce 
remembered  what  had  taken  place  as  he  awoke  and 
arose  next  morning. 

And  then  Lenardo  set  forth  on  his  journey  through 
the  world.  As  he  stepped  into  the  court,  a  little  Bird 
sat  singing  and  chattering  on  a  bough. 

*'  He  has  been  within  the  haunted  room  ;  he  has 
seen  the  snake,"  said  the  Bird. 

And  Lenardo  heard  what  he  said  ;  and  he  now 
found  himself,  he  knew  not  why,  possessed  of  a  new 
power,  for  whatever  the  birds  or  the  beasts  were  say- 
ing to  each  other  he  could  clearly  understand  it  ;  nay, 


THE  WHITE  SNAKE  255 


further,  he  found  he  could  even  converse  with  them, 
each  in  its  own  natural  language. 

Lenardo,  who  desired  nothing  so  much  as  to  find 
something  which  should  drive  his  mind  from  those 
painful  thoughts  on  his  lost  Blanche,  was  much 
pleased — as  much  as  he  could  be  in  his  sad  way — 
with  this  strange  gift ;  and  he  instantly  determined 
that  he  would  go  out  amongst  the  animals  and  decide 
for  himself  how  they  lived,  and  what  manner  of 
thoughts  and  affections,  of  which  we  have  so  little 
knowledge,  theirs  might  chance  to  be. 

And  so  thinking,  he  journeyed  on  his  way.  In  the 
first  village  to  which  he  came  he  found  a  showman 
leading  about  w^ith  him  an  elephant.  A  crowed  of 
children  stood  about  the  elephant,  and  w^ere  admiring 
his  sense  and  his  gentleness,  and  especially  the  use 
that  he  made  of  his  trunk,  which  seemed  to  supply 
him  the  place  of  hands,  so  exquisite  was  its  power  of 
feeling.  He  would  separate  with  it  the  good  from  the 
empty  nuts  that  they  gave  him  without  the  slightest 
doubt  or  difficulty  ;  he  would  pick  up  a  pin  or  move  a 
loaded  w^aggon  ;  and  the  crowning  trick  of  all  w^as  to 
lift  up  his  master,  himself  carrying  a  child  on  eacli 
arm,  high  over  his  head,  and  hold  him  there  for 
several  minutes  in  glory. 

Lenardo  drew  near,  and  as  the  elephant  went 
through  his  devices,  he  heard  the  poor  beast  mutter 
to    himself,   "  Was   it  for   this  that  I   was    born   and 


256  FIVE  DA  YS'  ENTERTAINMENTS 


nursed  in  the  wild  woods  of  Asia,  where  my  kindred 
now  rest  and  wander  at  their  free  pleasure  ?  Better 
were  it  to  die,  than  so  to  be  a  slave  to  man's  caprices." 

Lenardo  drew  closer  and  said,  "  Why  then  not  make 
your  escape  from  them  ? " 

And  the  elephant  replied,  with  an  inquiring  look  of 
calm  surprize,  "  Oh  !  thou  who  canst  speak  to  us,  and 
we  understand  thee.  It  is  because  I  fear  man,  and 
his  power,  and  his  wisdom." 

"  Only  in  your  weakness  is  man  strong,"  answered 
Lenardo.  *'  Listen  to  me,  for  I  am  not  a  man  like 
the  rest.  When  night  comes,  and  they  lead  you  back 
to  your  cage,  grasp  the  keeper  gently  with  your  trunk, 
and  lift  him  into  the  boughs  of  one  of  the  trees  that 
grow  by  the  wayside ;  then  flee  without  delay,  and 
join  me  in  the  forest." 

When  evening  came,  as  Lenardo  sat  within  the 
wood,  he  heard  a  rustling  and  trampling  among  the 
boughs,  as  if  the  whirlwind  was  approaching.  And 
presently  the  Elephant,  bursting  his  way  between  the 
thick  trees,  ran  up,  and  embracing  him  with  his  trunk, 
thanked  him,  in  words  such  as  men  use,  for  his  deliver- 
ance from  captivity.  And  they  set  out  together  on 
their  travels,  Lenardo  taking  his  seat  on  the  back  of 
the  Elephant  whenever  he  might  feel  weary  and  foot- 
sore, and  in  his  turn  directing  his  bearer  whither  to 
go,  that  they  might  henceforth  avoid  the  habitations 
of  men. 


THE  WHITE ^NAKE  257 


lUit  l.cnardo's  thirst  for  knowledge  returned  to  liini. 
and  he  said  one  day  to  his  companion,  "  How  is  it 
that  you,  the  beasts  of  the  field,  know  how  to  find 
yourselves  food  and  shelter  within  the  forest  ?  Who 
taught  you,  and  whence  have  you  such  wisdom  ?  " 

"  It  is  born  in  us,"  replied  the  Elephant  ;  "  from  our 
very  birth  we  have  it,  we  know  not  how.  It  is,  as  it 
were,  a  blind  feeling  :  we  need  make  no  inquiries  of 
it  ;   we  do  but  follow  its  bidding." 

"  Is  this  feeling  strong  within  you  at  all  times  ?  " 
asked  Lenardo. 

"  When  we  have  little  ones  to  provide  for,  we  are 
chiefly  guided  by  it,"  replied  the  beast  ;  "  but  if  you 
desire  to  learn  more  on  these  matters,  ask  the  Beaver 
or  the  Swallow,  for  they  build  themselves  houses, 
which  we  need  not,  and  are  in  all  ways  creatures  more 
gifted  than  ourselves." 

And  Lenardo  went  to  the  Birds  and  said  : 

*'  Upon  the  trees  of  the  forest,  or  beneath  our  roofs, 
you  build  your  nests,  and  there  you  hatch  and  nurse 
your  little  ones,  and  there  you  pass  a  happy  summer  ; 
and  when  autumn  falls,  you  spread  your  wings  and  fly 
we  know  not  whither,  nor  do  you  ask  counsel  what 
shall  be  the  path  of  your  journeying.  But  how  is  this, 
for  I  desire  to  know  it } " 

And  the  Swallow  answered  : 

"  How  this  is,  we  know  not  ;  we  see  not  the  land 
towards  which  we  fly,  nor  is  there  any  pilot  who  steers 

s 


258  FIVE  DAYS'  ENTERTAINMENTS 


us.  And  when  we  touch  the  ships  of  man,  as  we  cross 
the  wide  sea  and  rest  us  a  while  on  the  lofty  mast-tops, 
men  gaze  on  us,  and  from  our  flight  they  take  counsel 
to  direct  their  steps  over  the  trackless.  But  we  ask 
not  counsel  of  them,  for  within  us  there  is  a  sense,  and 
a  feeling,  and  a  motion,  that  is  our  guide  and  our 
leader.  And,  again,  we  take  up  our  abode  beneath 
the  roofs  of  men,  and  we  hear  them  within  the  house, 
as  they  labour,  and  strive,  and  sing  ;  and  the  poor 
would  be  as  the  wealthy,  and  the  wealthy  strive 
among  themselves ;  and  the  rich  are  not  satisfied  with 
their  riches,  neither  the  wise  with  their  wisdom.  But 
our  little  ones  live  in  peace  with  us,  and  we  ask  not 
ourselves  what  shall  be  on  the  morrow;  and  we  range 
the  sticks,  and  the  hay,  and  the  earth  in  their  order, 
to  frame  our  dwelling  ;  and  we  sweep  over  the  surface 
of  the  lake  for  food  for  ourselves  and  our  little  ones, 
for  love  gives  us  this  wisdom." 

And  then  Lenardo  journeyed  onwards,  and  he  soon 
reached  the  banks  of  a  mighty  river.  What  looked 
like  a  dam  or  bridge  was  cast  across  it,  built  of  stakes 
cunningly  arranged  and  wattled  together.  And  along 
this  were  set  the  holes,  which  led  to  the  habitations  of 
the  Beavers  within. 

"  Man  could  not  build  a  wall  such  as  this,"  said 
Lenardo,  "  witliout  the  care  and  the  study  of  many 
years.  But  whence  have  ye  learnt  the  skill  to  con- 
.struct  it  r 


THE   WHITE  SXAKE  259 

"It  is  in  us,  we  know  not  wlicncc,"  answered  the 
Beaver.  "When  the  time  dra\vs  near,  and  our  young 
ones  need  food  and  shelter,  something  within  moves 
us.  and  we  prepare  our  resting-phice." 

"  It  is  witli  them  as  with  tlie  Birds,"  said  Lenardo  to 
his  companion,  the  Elephant.  "  Love  makes  them 
wise.  We  work  and  think,  and  toil,  and  add  to  our 
knowledge  :  for  man  loves  wisdom.  But  lo  !  the  time 
comes,  and  the  Beaver  and  the  Swallow  lay  their 
foundation,  and  strengthen  their  walls,  and  build  a 
home  for  themselves  and  their  little  ones  ;  and  they 
think  not  Jiow  they  should  do  it,  for  they  have  no 
need  of  such  reasonings.  But  with  what  tools  is  the 
work  constructed  V  said  he  again. 

"  Behold,  we  carry  our  tools  wnth  us,"  answered  the 
Beavers,  lifting  up  on  high  their  broad  fish-like  tails, 
and  flapping  them  down  on  the  river's  bank  with  an 
air  of  evident  satisfaction.  "  Our  eyes  are  in  our  tails, 
we  often  say  ;  for  truly  we  need  nothing  else  to  direct 
us,  but  the  sense  of  feeling;  we  measure  and  we  weigh 
the  stakes  with  our  paws  ;  our  sharp  teeth  cut  them 
through  :  we  arrange  and  we  plaster  them  with  the 
mud  of  the  stream  ;  for  such  is  the  wisdom  that  has 
been  given  us." 

And  the  Beaver  and  the  Elephant  begged  Lenardo, 
that  as  the  gift  of  understanding  had  been  granted 
him,  he  would  live  with  them  and  take  up  his  abode 
in  the  forest,  where  no  man  should  see  him. 

s  2 


26o  FIVE  DAYS'  ENTERTAINMENTS 


"  Men  toil  and  fret,"  said  they  ;  *"  they  labour  in 
vain,  for  their  to-il  satisfies  them  not.  They  ever  wish 
something  farther  ;  and  they  hate  and  they  injure 
each  other^  and  the  beasts  of  the  field  likewise  ;  for 
they  love  not  love,  but  wealth  and  knowledge." 

''  We  understand  you  not,  and  you  understand  us 
not,"  answered  Lenardo ;  for  the  remembrance  of 
Blanche,  and  the  love  that  he  bore  her,  rose  again  in 
his  mind,  and  he  thought — 

"  They  have  indeed  a  perfect  imperfectness  ;  but 
has  not  man  an  imperfect  perfectibility  ?" 

"  What  is  this  behind  you  ? "  said  the  Elephant  at 
this  moment.  Lenardo  turned,  and  lo  !  following  his 
steps  he  beheld  the  White  Snake  gliding  over  the 
greensward.  Fear  came  over  him,  and  yet,  as  he 
looked,  a  strange  love  towards  the  Snake  arose,  he 
knew  not  how,  within  him.  And  as  he  still  gazed  on 
with  a  glance  of  tenderness,  behold  f  he  saw  the  Snake 
no  more.  But  Blanche  —  his  own  lost  Blanche  ! 
Blanche  herself  now  stood  before  him.  And  she  said, 
"  Have  I  found  thee  ?  He  that  parts  us  shall  bring 
brands  from  Heaven,  and  fire  us  asunder."  And  so 
they  talked  and  travelled  on  together. 

And  then  Lenardo  looked  on  Blanche's  hand,  and 
saw  that  it  was  bleeding ;  and  he  asked  her  how  she 
had  gotten  this  injury  ;  and  she  answered  him,  That 
he  must  not  ask  it  for  a  while,  for  that  she  lay  under 
some  strange  spell,  and  that  if  he  inquired,  she  could 


TirK   J  Vin  TE  SXA  KE  2  6  I 


not  refuse  to  answer  him,  but  tliat  great  evil  would 
befall  them  both.  But  Leiiardo  was  curious,  and  he 
fain  would  learn  the  reason  ;  and  he  said  to  himself, 
That  all  was  not  as  it  should  be  :  and  again,  That 
love  had  no  secrets.  And  so  thinking,  he  cast  a  look 
on  his  dear  Blanche — a  look  like  that  which  Christa- 
bel's  father  cast  on  her  as  Geraldinc  stood  by  —  in 
Coleridge's  beautiful  poem,  which  you  ought  to  read 
if  you  have  not  read  it,  and  to  read  again  if  you  have 
read  it — a  look  full  of  jealousy  and  suspicion.  And 
immediately  Blanche  was  no  longer  by  him,  but  in 
her  stead  the  White  Snake  lay  on  the  ground  and 
glided  from  his  sight,  trailing  herself  slowly  along  as 
if  in  pain  and  wounded. 

Lenardo  now  burst  into  loud  cries  of  sorrow  for  his 
own  folly,  and  filled  the  air  with  shouts  of  "  Blanche  !" 
but  it  was  too  late.  Only  he  yet  heard  a  voice,  as 
hers  was,  saying,  "Not  until  Lenardo  finds  the  Magical 
Touchstone  and  brings  it  to  me  can  I  return  to  my 
proper  form  again  ;  and  the  Touchstone  must  be 
sought  by  Love,  and  not  by  Knowledge." 

And  so  he  journeyed  on  again  in  solitude  ;  for  the 
Elephant  his  companion  and  all  the  beasts  of  the 
field  had  forsaken  him.  But  at  nightfall  the  walls  of 
a  great  Castle  rose  before  him  ;  by  the  side  of  the 
gate  there  hung  a  bugle-horn,  but  he  could  see  no 
man  within  or  without.  Lenardo  lifted  the  horn  to 
his  lips,  and  twice  he  sounded  it,  but  in   vain.     But 


262  FIVE  DAYS'  ENTERTAINMENTS 


the  third  time  the  notes  had  scarcely  gone  forth 
from  the  bugle  when  an  old  man,  strangely  drest, 
stood  before  him..  "  What  seek  you  here  ?"  said  the 
Magician. 

"If  thou  art  the  Lord  of  the  Castle,  to  whom  I 
speak,"  answered  Lenardo,  calmly,  "  I  seek  rest  from 
my  sorrow  and  my  labours." 

"  I  am  the  Lord  of  the  Castle,"  replied  he.  "  Enter 
therefore  within  it.  And  I  can  make  men  wise  in 
many  things  :  learn,  therefore,  of  me,  for  the  heart  of 
man  gains  rest  and  peace  by  wisdom  and  by  know- 
ledge." 

Sa  Lenardo  went  within  the  Castle,  and  he  took  up 
his  abode  there  ;  and  next  morning  the  Magician  led 
him  to  a  lofty  Tower  wherein  was  a  room  filled  with 
glasses,  and  fire-pots,  and  furnaces,  and  other  strange 
things  ;.  and  the  walls  of  it  were  covered  with  magical 
figures,  triangles,  and  pierced  circles,  and  the  signs  of 
the  stars  of  heaven.  And  there  Lenardo  studied  and 
made  himself  perfect  in  the  arts  of  magic,  for  he 
thought  as  he  did  so  that  thus  he  should  gain  pos- 
session of  the  wonderful  Stone  and  free  Blanche  from 
her  enchantment  :  for  he  had  forgotten  the  words 
which  she  had  spoken  to  him.  And  soon  he  called 
up  the  Spirits  of  the  Air  about  him,  and  he  bade 
them  search  for  the  Stone.  And  they  went  forth  at 
his  bidding,  and  they  sought  through  air  and  earth, 
and  under  the  earth   amongst  the  caverns  and  the 


THE  WHITE' SNAKE  263 


mines,   and   through   desert    and    mountain,    but   tliey 
found   it   not. 

Now  the  Magician  had  one  only  daughter,  named 
Sophiazza.  She  was  a  cruel  and  wicked  woman  ;  and 
from  her  birth  she  had  been  frightful  and  terrible  to 
look  upon ;  but  she  was  very  cunning  and  skilful ; 
and  her  father  by  his  spells  had  caused  it  so  to  be, 
that  whosoever  looked  on  her,  whilst  she  was  within 
the  walls  of  his  Castle,  should  think  her  fair  and 
beautiful.  And  as  day  by  day  went  by,  and  Lenardo 
found  that  he  could  not  obtain  the  Magic  Stone,  he 
began  to  forget  his  once-loved  Blanche,  and  to  grow 
into  a  fondness  for  Sophiazza,  until  he  determined  at 
last  that  he  would  offer  to  make  her  his  wife,  for  he 
thought  that  he  should  never  see  the  White  Snake 
again.  And  when  her  father,  the  Magician,  learned 
it,  he  was  very  glad,  and  said  that  the  Castle  and  all 
that  was  within  it  should  be  Lenardo's  ;  and  he  fixed 
that  the  marriage  should  take  place  on  the  day 
following. 

As  Lenardo  arose  from  his  bed,  he  thought  he 
heard  a  sound  of  voices  near  him  ;  and  as  he  looked 
and  listened,  he  saw  two  little  Birds  perched  on  two 
twigs  that  grew  by  the  side  of  the  chamber-window, 
and  one  Bird  said  to  the  other — 

O'er  the  sun  a  cloud  is  spread  ; 
Tears  of  grief  from  Heaven  are  slied  : 
Earth  and  sky  are  clothed  in  gray  : 
Tell  me  what  is  done  to-dav? 


264  FIVE  DA  K9'  ENTERTAINMENTS 


And  the  other  Bird  made  answer  :  — 

Folly  reigns  in  Wisdom's  dress  : 
None  the  loveless  Love  will  bless  : 
Fools  will  go  their  foolish  way  : 
Folly  weds  with  Sin  to-day. 


Lenardo  placed  his  hands  on  his  ears,  but  the  sounds- 
pierced  through,  and  do  what  he  might,  he  still  heard 
the  song  of  the  Birds.  "  What  folly  to  be  frightened 
by  a    bird,"    he    thought,  though  yet  his  conscience 


THE   WHITE  SXAKE  265 

smote  him,  and  .sprin<^ing  up,  he  went  forth  from  his 
chamber  to  the  hall,  where  the  Magician  with  his 
servants  and  followers  were  standing  ready  with  the 
Bride.  But  as  he  passed  through  the  doorway  the 
Birds  rose  up  and  went  before  him,  and  he  heard  the 
burden  of  their  song — 


Fools  will  go  their  foolish  way, 
That  is  what  is  clone  to-day. 


Yet  once  more  he  put  down  the  voice  of  conscience, 
thinking,  "  No  one  else  understands  them  ;"  and 
going  boldly  up,  he  made  ready  to  take  the  hand  of 
Sophiazza.  But  as  he  did  this,  a  noise  was  heard 
among  those  who  stood  by,  and  lo !  the  White  Snake, 
so  long  unseen,  came  slowly  gliding  up  the  hall,  while 
the  drops  of  blood  fell  from  her  as  she  went,  and 
marked  her  path  to  where  Lenardo  was  standing. 

Sophiazza  shrieked  as  the  Snake  came  between  her 
and  Lenardo,  and  then  lifting  itself  up,  stood  like  a 
little  pillar  to  part  them  asunder. 

And  when  Lenardo  saw  what  had  happened,  grief 
and  shame  filled  his  heart,  and  he  felt  his  old  love  for 
Blanche  return  to  him,  and  he  looked  on  the  Snake  as 
he  had  before  looked  on  it.  And  immediately  a  fair 
maiden  stood  between  him  and  the  false  Bride ;  and 
he  knew  again  that  it  was  Blanche  ;  and  he  saw  that 
she  bore  a  wound  on  her  right  hand,  as  if  it  had  been 
struck  with  some  weapon. 


266  FIVE  DAYS'  ENTERTAINMENTS 


He  stretched  out  his  arms,  and  would  fain  have 
clasped  her  to  him,  but  she  stept  lightly  back,  and 
said,  *'  Not  yet,  Lenardo ;  not  till  I  know  that  you 
truly  love  me." 

And  he  answered,  **  Indeed  I  love  thee,  and  thee 
alone.  And  for  thy  sake  I  give  up  my  foolish 
knowledge,  for  I  know  that  I  have  not  sought  thee 
as  I  should.  For  I  thought  that  by  cunning  I  would 
gain  the  magic  stone  and  set  thee  free.  But  lo  !  my 
own  folly  has  deceived  me." 

And  Blanche  said,  "  Let  me  hear  once  more,  if  you 
truly  love  me." 

And  he  replied,  "  Indeed,  I  love  thee,  and  thee 
alone,  and  for  love's  sake  only." 

At  once  a  rushing  of  wings  was  heard,  and  a  fair 
form  that  seemed  that  of  an  angel  was  above  them, 
bearing  in  his  hand  a  precious  ruby. 

But  at  this  moment  the  Magician,  with  Sophiazza 
and  the  attendants,  who  had  stood  for  a  while  as  if 
spell-bound,  rushed  violently  with  loud  shrieks  upon 
Blanche  and  Lenardo,  and  drew  their  swords  as  if  to 
kill  them.  But  Lenardo  held  himself  firm,  and  as 
each  came  up,  he  touched  him  with  the  magic  ruby, 
and  at  once  the  Magician  and  his  armed  men  became 
rooted  to  the  ground,  and  stood  there  as  stone  figures. 
And  when  he  touched  Sophiazza,  her  beauty  fell  from 
her,  and  she  was  changed  into  the  form  of  a  hideous 
serpent,  and  fled  hissing  from  the  chamber. 


THE  WHITE  SNAKE  267 

Last  of  all  Lcnardo  placed  the  ina<^ic  gem  on  the 
hand  of  Blanche.  Immediately  the  blood  dried  up 
and  the  wound  healed,  and  she  threw  herself  into  his 
arms  and  said  gently  :  "  I  am  thine — thine  for  ever." 

xVnd  Lenardo  answered  :  "  Be  it  so,  dearest.  For 
thou,  and  thou  alone,  hast  cured  me  of  my  folly,  that 
seemed  wisdom  ;  and  for  thy  sake  I  give  up  my  foolish 
knowledge — that  appeared  knowledge,  and  was  not  ; 
for  I  see  that  to  man  it  is  not  permitted  to  know  the 
love  of  wisdom,  till  he  has  first  learnt  the  wisdom  of 
love." 

And  he  placed  Blanche's  arm  within  his,  and  they 
left  the  Hall  together,  whilst  the  sun  broke  gaily 
through  the  clouds,  and  the  two  birds  flew  before 
them  and  sang  w^ith  cheerful  voices : — 

High  the  sun  unvtils  his  head  : 
Tears  of  joy  from  Heaven  are  shed  : 
Earth  and  sky  are  fair  and  gay : 
Tell  me  what  is  done  today  * 

And   the   other    answered — and  indeed  both   sang   it 
together  : — 

Wisdom  reigns  in  light  above. 
Wisdom  only  w^ise  by  Love. 
Charm  and  veil  are  cast  away  : 
Wisdom  weds  with  Love  to-day. 


The   children   seemed   well   pleased   with   Charles's 
story. 


268  FIVE  DAYS'  ENTERTAINMENTS 


"  I  wish  you  would  give  us  more  poetry,"  observed 
Mrs.  Wentworth.  "  You,  Charles,  have  especially 
owed  it  to  us,  inasmuch  as  the  verses  in  the  original 
of  your  '  Uncaged  Lion  '  are  one  of  the  principal 
among  the  many  beauties  of  Goethe's  story," 

"  I  felt  so  at  the  time,"  replied  he  ;  "  but  the  fact 
is,  double  rhymes  in  English  are  too  tiresome." 

"  I  have  a  greater  complaint  to  bring,"  said  Emily. 
"  Charles  has  poached  on  my  preserve,  and  has  taken 
to  himself  the  fairy  story  which,  by  the  right  of  our 
original  agreement,  was  to  belong  to  me." 

"  It  is  the  last  day,  remember,"  answered  the  lady, 
"  and  so  we  shall  make  allowances." 

**  Oh,  do  tell  us  some  more  faiiy  stories — do  !  "  cried 
the  younger  children  ;  "  we  like  them  much  the  best." 

"  And  I — and  I,"  said  each  in  turn. 

"  Well,  I  hope  I  shall  give  you  satisfaction,"  replied 
Emily,  smiling. 


EMILY'S    Flf-TH    TALE 

VIOLA 

A  LONG  time  ago,  before  you  or  I  were  born,  there 
lived  a  woodcutter  in  the  heart  of  a  great  forest.  No 
one  knew  how,  but  nothing  seemed  to  go  well  with 
the  poor  man  :  his  cow  ran  away,  and  was  lost  in  the 


rfn/..i  269 

wood  ;  his  cottage  thatch  was  blown  off  by  the  wind  ; 
and  at  hist  his  wife  died  and  left  him  alone  in  the 
world  with  his  one  only  dauL^hter,  Viola. 

One  day  the  Woodcutter  had  i^one  forth  into  the 
forest  with  a  heavy  heart  to  his  daily  work.  He 
grasped  his  axe  firmly  in  both  hands,  lifted  it  above 
his  left  shoulder,  and  gave  a  great  blow  against  the 
trunk  of  an  old  oak  tree,  which  had  been  long  since 
marked  out  for  felling.  But  in  place  of  burying  itself 
within  the  wood,  as  he  had  expected,  the  axe  seemed 
to  meet  with  some  hard  substance,  harder  than  ada- 
mant itself,  and  with  the  violence  of  the  blow  the 
head  flew  off,  and  broke  into  a  thousand  shivers. 

Everything   is   against  me ! "   cried    the  unhappy 
man,  and  he  cast  his  eyes  down  to  the  ground. 

'*  Not  everything,  if  you  choose  it,"  said  a  voice  from 
above,  which  made  him  start  again. 

As  he  looked  up,  a  huge  Giant  stood  there  before 
him.  He  would  have  taken  to  flight  at  once  in  his 
fear,  but  he  found  he  could  not  stir  from  the  spot. 
But  the  Giant  bid  him  not  shake  so  much,  and  said 
that  he  need  no  longer  toil  and  groan  at  his  work,  if 
he  chose ;  for  he  would  make  him  rich  and  happy  in 
an  instant,  only  he  must  promise  to  give  him  what 
was  standing  behind  his  cottage,  which,  he  said,  with 
much  politeness,  as  he  was  in  no  hurry,  he  would 
come  in  three  years  time  and  fetch  away. 

"  There's  nothing  behind  my  cottage  but  my  old 


FIVE  DA  YS'  ENTERTAINMENTS 


apple-tree  that  has  left  off  bearing,"  thought  the 
Woodcutter ;  "  he  is  welcome  to  that,  sure  enough, 
if  he  likes  it  :  it  may  make  him  a  walking-stick." 
So  he  told  the  Giant  to  take  it,  and  to  fulfil  his 
promise. 

The  Giant  laughed  and  strode  away  through  the 
forest  with  long  steps  ;  and  the  -Woodcutter  returned 
to  his  cottage  rejoicing.  As  he  came  to  the  door,  his 
old  servant  Elspeth  ran  out  to  meet  him.  "  Ah, 
master ! "  she  cried,  "  master !  where  does  all  the 
money  come  from  .'*" 

"  What  money  V  said  he. 

"  Why,  the  house  is  all  full  of  money,"  answered 
she,  "  chests  and  boxes  full  ;  and  yet  I  never  saw  any 
one  bring  it  in." 

"  I  got  it  cheap  from  an  old  Giant  in  the  forest," 
replied  the  Woodcutter.  "  It  is  from  him  that  the 
money  comes,  and  in  return  I  am  to  give  him 
whatever  is  standing  behind  the  cottage,  which  you 
know " 

"  Ah,  master  ! "  shrieked  old  Elspeth,  breaking  in. 
"  what  have  you  done  }  It  must  have  been  a  bad 
Spirit,  who  wishes  to  carry  off  your  dear  Viola,  for 
she  has  been  standing  behind  the  cottage,  all  the 
morning,  poor  child,  a-washing  the  linen." 

The  Woodcutter's  daughter  was  very  pious  and 
beautiful,  and  she  lived  a  good  and  holy  life  for  the 
three  years.     And  when  the  day  came  on  which  the 


VIOLA  2  7  I 


bad  Spirit,  who  liad  appeared  to  her  father  as  a  giant 
in  the  wood,  was  to  carry  her  off,  she  washed  herself 
in  pure  running  water,  and  crowned  her  head  with  a 
garland  of  violets  and  roses.  Directly  the  Fiend  ap- 
peared :  but  he  was  unable  to  come  near  her.  In  a 
fury  he  called  the  Woodcutter  before  him,  and  gave 
him  such  a  terrible  look  with  his  fiery  eyes,  that  the 
poor  man  fell  on  his  knees,  and  promised,  in  his  fear, 
that  Viola  should  not  go  to  the  stream  again  to  wash 
herself ;  for  if  she  did,  the  demon  said  he  should  have 
no  power  over  her.  But  next  morning,  when  he  ap- 
peared again,  Viola  had  been  weeping  all  night  over 
her  hands,  and  washing  them  with  her  tears.  And 
so  a  second  time  the  Demon  was  disappointed  :  but 
in  a  still  more  terrible  rage  he  called  to  the  Wood- 
cutter and  said,  "  Cut  off  her  hands,  that  so  I  may 
have  power  over  her." 

Then  the  Woodcutter  threw  himself  at  the  evil 
Spirit's  feet,  and  begged  him  to  take  his  life  sooner 
than  order  him  to  do  so  dreadful  a  cruelty.  But 
the  Fiend  glowered  at  him,  and  said,  mockingly, 
he  would  do  it,  if  her  father  did  not,  and  that  it  should 
be  worse  for  both  of  them. 

Then,  in  the  agony  of  his  heart,  the  Woodcutter 
went  to  his  daughter,  and  said,  "  My  child,  if  I  do  not 
cut  off  your  two  hands,  the  Fiend  will  carry  us  both 
off,  and  it  will  be  worse  for  us,  for  we  are  in  his 
power."     And  Viola  answered,  "  In  Heaven's  power, 


2/2  FIVE  DAYS'  ENTERTA/NMENTS 


too,  my  father.  But  I  am  your  child  ;  do  with  me 
what  you  will."  And  then  she  stretched  out  her  little 
hands,  so  that  with  one  stroke  her  father  cut  them  off. 
And  then  he  fainted  for  grief,  and  lay  as  one  dead. 

But  when  next  morning  the  Demon  appeared,  Viola 
had  shed  so  many  tears  over  her  arms  that  they  were 
clean  and  pure,  and  as  this  was  now  the  third  time, 
he  had  lost  all  power  over  her,  and  fled  away  disap- 
pointed into  the  wilderness. 

Then  Viola  went  forth  from  the  cottage,  for  she 
could  no  longer  bear  to  live  there,  to  seek  her  fortune 
in  the  wide  world.  "  God  will  have  mercy  on  me," 
she  thought,  "and  He  will  turn  men's  hearts  to  have 
pity  on  me,  and  on  my  poor  wounded  arms."  And 
so  she  walked  on  for  that  whole  day,  till  night 
fell,  and  the  moon  arose  upon  the  earth.  And  then 
Viola  found  herself  by  the  side  of  a  royal  garden,  and 
as  she  looked,  by  the  bright  moonbeams  she  could  see 
beautiful  trees,  laden  with  fruit,  standing  in  it  ;  but  a 
ditch  full  of  water,  that  ran  round  the  garden,  lay 
between  them  and  her. 

But  Viola  had  eaten  nothing  all  day,  and  she  was 
faint  with  hunger  ;  and  as  she  still  looked  on  the  fruit 
trees,  she  thought,  "  O  that  I  was  within  the  garden, 
and  could  eat  of  the  fruit  of  the  trees,  for  else  I  must 
perish  with  hunger." 

And  then  she  knelt  down  and  prayed  that  help 
might  be  sent  her.     And  as  she  prayed,  at  once  an 


VIOLA  273 


Antjcl  stood  beside  her — so  near  is  earth  to  heaven, 
only  we  know  it  not — and  with  liis  hands  he  made  a 
pathway  in  the  water,  so  that  Viola  could  cross  over 
in  safety.  And  so  she  went  on  into  the  garden,  and 
the  Angel  went  with  her.  Then  she  saw  a  low,  crooked 
tree,  covered  with  the  most  beautiful  apples,  but  each 
apple  was  numbered.  **  They  will  miss  them,"  she 
thought.  Yet  her  hunger  was  so  great,  that  she  stepped 
quickly  up  to  the  tree,  and  bit  three  apples  from  the 
bough  with  her  teeth  as  they  hung  there,  for  she  had 
no  hands  with  which  to  pluck  them.  And  as  soon  as 
Viola  had  tasted  the  apples  her  strength  returned, 
and  she  lay  down  in  the  long  grass  to  rest  till 
morning. 

All  this  while  the  Gardener,  who  was  set  to  watch 
the  golden  apples,  was  looking  on  ;  but  as  he  saw  the 
Angel  standing  by,  he  feared  to  speak,  for  he  knew 
it  was  a  heavenly  vision  that  he  had  seen.  At  day- 
break came  the  King,  to  whom  the  garden  belonged  ; 
and  when  he  counted  up  the  fruit,  he  found  three 
apples  missing.  Then  he  turned  to  the  Gardener,  and 
asked  him  how  this  was  "^ 

The  Gardener  answered  :  "  A  Spirit  came  last  night, 
who  had  no  hands  ;  but  she  plucked  the  apples  from 
the  tree  with  her  mouth,  and  ate  them." 

"  How  did  the  Spirit  pa.ss  the  water  that  goes  round 
the  garden,  and  whither  has  it  gone  .-* "  asked  the 
King. 

T 


2  74  FIVE  DAYS'  ENTERTAINMENTS 


"  An  Angel  in  white  garments,  shining  Hke  snow, 
came  down  from  heaven,"  answered  the  Gardener, 
"  and  with  his  hand  he  made  a  path  through  the 
water  ;  and  because  I  saw  that  it  was  an  Angel  I 
feared  to  speak  to  it,  or  to  the  Spirit  with  it  ;  and  as 
to  whither  they  went,  I  know  not." 

Then  the  King  wondered,  but  he  only  said,  "  Next 
night  I  will  watch  in  the  garden  with  you." 

When  evening  fell,  the  King  came  into  the  orchard, 
and  he  sat  himself  down  with  the  Gardener  under  the 
apple-tree  to  watch  what  should  happen.  And  at 
midnight  Viola  rose  from  her  hiding-place,  walked 
towards  the  tree,  and  again  she  plucked  three  apples 
from  it  with  her  teeth,  and  ate  them.  And  close 
beside  her  stood  the  Angel  in  his  snow-white  raiment. 
Then  the  King  rose  up  and  said,  "  Art  thou  come 
from  earth,  or  from  heaven  }  and  shall  I  call  thee  a 
spirit  or  a  living  soul  } "  *'  I  am  no  spirit,"  answered 
Viola  ;  "  I  am  only  a  poor  maiden  :  and  I  have  none 
to  help  me,  except  God  alone."  And  the  King  said, 
*•'  If  none  else  help  thee,  yet  will  I  ever  help  and  love 
thee."  And  then — for  he  saw  that  she  was  fair  and 
good — he  took  Viola  to  his  castle ;  and  he  caused 
silver  hands  to  be  made,  that  might  be  fitted  on  to  her 
poor  wounded  arms  :  and  then  he  made  her  his  wife 
and  his  Queen,  and  loved  her  with  his  whole  heart 
and  soul. 

Now  after  a  year's  time  it  came  to  pass  that  the 


VIOLA  275 


King  had  to  go  to  the  wars.  And  so  he  went  to  his 
mother,  the  Queen-dowager  (who  was  a  very  good 
and  charitable  lady ;  but  I  have  forgotten  her  name, 
which  began  with  an  A)  and  said  to  her,  *'  When  m}- 
dear  wife  comes  to  lie  in  child-bed,  as  she  will  before 
long,  take  good  care  of  her,  and  write  and  tell  me  of 
it  directly.''  And  so  Viola  brought  into  the  world  a 
beautiful  son  ;  and  her  mother-in-law  took  good  care 
of  her,  and  wrote  a  letter  with  the  joyful  news  to  the 
King  without  a  minute's  delay.  But  so  it  happened, 
the  messenger  to  Avhom  the  letter  had  been  given 
forgot  his  way,  and  went  to  sleep  on  the  edge  of  an 
enchanted  forest.  Then  the  Fiend,  who  was  ever  on 
the  watch  to  do  the  good  Viola  some  harm,  came, 
and  took  away  the  letter  from  the  messenger  as  he 
slept,  and  put  another  in  its  place,  in  which  it  was  said 
that  the  Queen  had  brought  an  ugly  changeling  into 
the  world.  When  the  King  read  the  letter,  he  was 
much  grieved  and  frightened,  for  he  ha^rdly  knew 
what  to  think  of  it.  However,  he  sent  back  the 
messenger  with  an  answer,  in  which  he  wrote : — 
"  That  they  should  take  good  care  of  the  Queen, 
Viola,  and  of  her  child,  until  he,  should  return  and 
see  them."  The  messenger  went  homewards  with  the 
letter,  and  he  stopped  at  the  same  place  where  he 
had  rested  before,  and  there  he  lay  down  and  slept 
soundly.  Then  the  Fiend  came  again,  took  the 
King's  letter  away,  and  put  another  in  its  place,  in 

T    2 


276  FI VE  DA  YS'  ENTER  TA INMENTS 

which  it  was  said,  "  That  they  should  burn  the  Queen 
and  her  child  alive  ;  for  that  now  the  King  was  sure 
she  was  a  witch."  When  the  King's  mother  read 
the  message,  she  was  seized  with  grief  and  terror  ; 
and  she  wrote  another  letter  to  the  King,  to  beg  him 
to  think  of  Avhat  he  had  ordered,  and  to  change  his 
mind,  for  that  Viola  was  no  witch,  but  his  own  faithful 
wife,  and  had  brought  him  a  beautiful  son  into  the 
world.  But  the  only  answer  that  came  was  a  false 
answer  from  the  Fiend,  "  That  in  order  that  the 
King  might  be  sure  that  his  commands  were  obeyed, 
his  mother  should  send  him  the  Queen's  own  robe, 
stained  with  her  heart's  blood  ;  for  that  he  knew  well 
she  was  a  witch." 

But  his  old  mother  wept  at  the  cruel  message,  and 
she  thought,  "  Some  madness  must  have  fallen  on  my 
son.  I  can  never  shed  innocent  blood."  And  so  she 
ordered  a  heifer  to  be  killed  at  night,  and  she  took 
the  Queen'3  own  robe  and  dipt  it  in  the  blood.  Then 
she  went  to  Viola,  and  said  to  her,  '*  I  cannot  put 
thee  to  death  ;  but  you  must  stay  here  no  longer  ; 
for  I  must  take  you  and  your  child  and  place  you 
in  a  chest,  and  cast  it  forth  into  the  sea  :  for  so  the 
King  orders,  and  I  cannot  disobey  him.  But  God 
will  be  your  helper."  And  Viola  said,  "  What  my 
husband  orders,  that  I  must  do."  And  so  they  took 
her  and  her  child,  and  locked  them  up  in  a  chest, 
the  lid  of  which  was  filled  with  holes,  and  they  put 


VIOLA 


11 


some  bread  and  water  in  the  chest,  and  cast  it  out 
into  the  deep  sea. 

After  many  days  had  passed,  and  Viola  had  almost 
given  up  all  hope,  it  so  happened  that  the  winds  and 
waves  bore  the  chest  to  land,  and  cast  it  on  shore  in 
the  country  that  belonged  to  King  Berengarius.     The 


King  was  walking  on  the  beach,  and  when  he  saw  the 
chest  washed  up,  he  ordered  his  servants  to  take  it 
and  carry  it  into  the  palace.  And  when  it  was  opened 
he  was  much  astonished  to  find  within  the  beautiful 


278  FIVE  DAYS'  ENTERTAINMENTS 


Queen  without  hands,  and  her  child.  And  he  took 
them  out  and  treated  them  kindly  :  and  Viola  told 
Berengarius  of  her  misfortunes,  and  how  her  husband 
had  cruelly  treated  her ;  but  yet  that  she  wished  to 
go  and  seek  him  out,  for  she  was  sure  some  madness 
must  have  fallen  on  him.  And  meanwhile  she 
stayed  in  the  King's  palace,  and  Berengarius  treated 
her  as  if  she  were  his  own  daughter.  But  Beren- 
garius's  Queen  was  a  very  wicked  woman  ;  and  she 
was  jealous  of  Viola,  for  she  thought  her  husband 
loved  her  too  much.  And  so  one  night,  when  all  else 
slept,  she  called  Viola  and  her  child,  and  bade  her 
guards  take  them  and  drive  them  far  away  from 
the  palace  into  a  great  wilderness,  where  she  thought 
they  would  perish  of  hunger.  But  Viola,  when  she 
was  cast  out,  and  the  guards  had  left  her,  knelt 
down  with  her  child  on  the  bare  ground,  and  prayed 
God  to  be  her  helper.  And  immediately  an  Angel 
stood  by  her,  bearing  meat  and  drink  in  his  hands  ; 
and  he  gave  Viola  to  eat,  and  pointed  out  to  her  the 
way  which  she  should  take  over  the  wilderness.  So 
she  went  on  with  the  child,  and  at  last  she  came  to  a 
little  cottage,  on  the  door  of  which  were  written  the 
words,  ''  Come  in,  and  take  comfort."  And  out  of  the 
cottage  there  came  immediately  a  maiden  in  snow- 
white  clothing,  who  said,  "  Welcome,  fair  Queen,"  and 
brought  her  and  her  child  within.  Then  the  maiden 
took  Viola's  child  and  laid  it  at  its  mother's  breast  ; 


VIOLA  279 

and  after  a  while  th€  child  slept,  and  the  maiden  took 
it  softly  up  and  put  it  in  a  cradle  that  stood  by.  Then 
poor  Viola  said,  "  How  did  you  know  that  I  am  a 
Queen  ? "  and  the  maiden  answered,  "  Because  I  am 
an  Angel  from  heaven,  and  I  am  sent  to  take  care  of 
you  and  your  child."  Then  Viola  dwelt  in  the  cottage 
for  seven  years  long,  for  so  she  was  bid  to  do,  and  to 
wait  thus  till  her  husband  should  be  sent  to  visit  her. 

But  meanwhile  the  King  Berengarius  was  very  sorry 
for  what  his  wife  had  done  ;  and  in  hopes  that  he 
might  discover  where  Viola  had  hidden  herself,  if  she 
were  yet  alive,  and  might  give  her  back  to  her  husband, 
he  caused  proclamation  to  be  made,  that  all  persons 
who  had  any  sorrow  to  complain  of  should  come  to 
his  court.  O  how  many  came  !  and  he  relieved  them  ; 
but  there  were  no  tidings  of  Viola. 

And  now  the  long  war  was  ended,  and  the  King, 
Viola's  husband,  returned  to  his  home,  and  desired  to 
see  his  wife  and  child,  Then  his  mother  began  to 
weep,  and  said,  "  Wretched  man,  what  was  it  you 
wrote  to  me  .^  that  I  should  shed  the  blood  of  the 
innocent  "^  "  And  she  showed  him  the  two  letters  which 
the  wicked  Spirit  had  written  in  the  King's  name,  and 
said  that  she  had  done  wliat  he  had  ordered  her,  and 
showed  him  for  proof  Viola's  robe,  stained  with  blood. 
Then  the  King,  without  speaking,  began  to  weep 
bitterly  for  his  dear  wife  and  child,  until  at  last  his 
mother  took  pity  on  him,  and  said,  '*  Comfort  yourself; 


28o  FIVE  DAYS'  ENTERTAINMENTS 

she  is  still  alive  ;  I  killed  a  heifer,  and  dipt  her 
robe  in  the  blood  :  but  I  cast  forth  Viola  and  her 
child,  for  I  feared  your  wrath ;  and  whither  they  have 
gone  I  know  not."  Then  the  King  answered,  "  I  will 
go  and  search  for  her,  as  far  as  the  sky  is  blue  and 
the  night  is  black  ;  and  I  will  eat  and  drink  nothing 
until  I  have  found  again  my  dear  wife  and  child." 
And  so  he  went  forth,  neither  eating  nor  drinking  ; 
and  yet  he  did  not  faint  with  hunger,  for  strength  was 
given  him  from  above.  And  he  sought  Viola  far  and 
near,  but  he  heard  nothing  of  her.  At  last  news  came 
to  him  of  the  proclamation  which  Berengarius  had 
put  out,  and  he  thought,  "  I  will  go  thither,  for  who 
in  the  wide  world  is  more  wretched  than  I  .-* " 

When  Berengarius  saw  the  King  he  said,  ''  You 
seek  the  Princess  without  hands  ;  but,  alas  !  I  knov/ 
not  where  she  is,  or  whether  she  be  living."  And  he 
told  him  all  that  had  happened. 

Then  the  King  went  forth  into  the  wilderness,  and 
in  it  he  wandered  up  and  down  for  seven  years, 
neither  eating  nor  drinking.  And  at  last  he  found  a 
little  cottage,  on  the  door  of  which  was  written  the 
words,  "  Come  in  and  take  comfort."  Then  the 
maiden  in  snow-white  clothing  came  forth,  and  took 
him  by  the  hand  and  led  him  in,  and  said,  "  Welcome, 
noble  King,"  and  asked  him  whence  he  came  thither. 
He  answered,  "  Seven  years  have  I  wandered  up  and 
down  in  the  wilderness,  and  have  sought  my  wife  and 


VIOLA  251 


child,  but  I  have  not  found  them."  The  Angel  set 
food  before  him,  but  he  would  not  eat  of  it ;  and  then 
he  laid  him  down  to  rest,  and  the  Angel  covered  his 
face  with  a  veil  as  he  lay  sleeping. 

Then  the  Angel  in  snow-white  clothing  went  into 
the  room  where  the  Queen  was  sitting  with  her  son 
sorrowing,  and  said  to  her,  "  Follow  me  with  your 
child  ;  I  have  good  news  :  the  King  your  husband 
has  arrived  here."  Then  Viola  went  into  the  room 
where  he  lay  asleep,  and  saw  that  the  veil  had  fallen 
from  before  his  face.  And  she  said  to  her  child,  "  Son, 
lift  up  the  veil  and  cover  your  father's  face  with  it, 
for  he  sleeps,  and  would  not  be  awakened."  So  he 
took  up  the  veil  and  spread  it  over  the  Ring's  face. 
But  the  King  heard  what  was  said  in  his  sleep,  and  he 
let  the  veil  fall  again  to  the  ground.  Then  Viola  said 
again,  "  Son,  lift  up  the  veil  and  cover  your  father's 
face  with  it,  for  he  sleeps,  and  would  not  be  awakened." 
But  the  child  grew  impatient,  and  said,  "  Dear  mother, 
how  can  I  spread  the  veil  over  my  father's  face }  I 
have  no  father,  on  earth.  But  you  have  told  me  that 
my  father  was  in  heaven,  and  I  kneel  down  and  pray 
to  him  ;  but  I  have  never  seen  his  face.  How  then  can 
this  wild  man  be  my  father  } "  Then  the  King  smiled, 
and  he  could  no  more  restrain  himself,  but  he  sprang 
up  and  embraced  the  child,  and  said,  "  My  son  !  my 
son  !  "  And  the  Angel  touched  Viola's  arms,  and  at 
once  her  hands  were  restored  to  her,  fair  as  they  had 


FIVE  DAYS'  ENTERTAINMENTS 


been  before.  And  she  ran  to  her  husband,  and  said, 
"  I  am  Viola  !  I  am  thy  own  wife  Viola !  "  But  the 
King  looked  down  and  said,  *'  My  wife  had  silver 
hands."  And  she  answered,  "  Those  you  gave  me, 
dearest  ;  but  an  Angel  has  given  me  these,  look  !  and 
they  are  what  I  had  when  I  was  a  baby."  And  she 
held  them  up  ;  and  they  were  smoother  than  ivory, 
and  rosier  than  coral. 

Then  the  King  saw  that  it  was  his  own  Viola,  and 
he  took  her  and  his  child  in  his  arms  ;  and  they  told 
each  other  of  all  that  had  happened  ;  and  when  they 
had  heard  it,  they  wept  and  they  rejoiced  together, 
and  they  knew  that  their  wanderings,  and  their  danger.s, 
and  their  partings,  were  ended  for  ever. 

"  Well,  I  think  we  may  fairly  say  you  have  kept 
your  best  for  the  last,  Emily,"  said  Mrs.  Wentworth  ; 
"  though  whether  Emily's  readers  will  think  so  is 
another  matter.  She  begs  not  to  interfere  with  any 
one's  judgment." 

"  Not  I ;  however,  you  know,"  answered  she.  "  Do 
not  make  me  confess  twice." 

"  I  don't  find  all  in  your  original,  Emily,"  said 
Arthur,  who  had  been  observed  for  the  last  few 
minutes  mysteriously  turning  over  the  leaves  of  a 
certain  small  volume,  printed  in  what  looked  like 
old  English  letters  on  what  looked  like  dirty  blotting- 
paper. 


THE  GIPSt  GIRL  283 


"Ah,  fie!"  cried  she;  "exposing  me  so!  But  if 
you  look  to  Grimm's  third  volume  you  will  find  the 
Italian  version  of  the  story,  from  which  I  have  taken 
an  incident  or  two  to  interweave  with  the  German." 

"  What  !  Are  all  those  Fairy  Stories, —  all  ?  "  cried 
the  younger  children. 

"  Yes,  all,"  said  she  ;  "  and  the  best  set  that  were 
ever  put  together." 

"  Wait  a  little  longer,"  observed  Mrs.  Wentworth, 
seeing  Emily  look  rather  puzzled  at  the  modest 
request  that  she  would  read  them  "all  over"  to  the 
party.  "  Som.e  day  I  hope  you  will  be  able  to  read 
them,  and  many  other  good  things,  for  yourselves." 

**  Miss  Cobham  is  a  very  good  German  scholar," 
said  Anna,  "  but  it  only  begins  in  the  third  class." 

"  Well,  everything  in  time  ;  but  now  listen  to  me," 
cried  out  Arthur,  making  a  gruff  voice,  and  a  speaking- 
trumpet  of  his  hands.  "  Come  and  listen  to  the 
LAST  STORY!" 


ARTHUR'S   FIFTH  TALE 

THE   GIPSY  GIRL 

GiSELLA  was  a  gipsy  girl,  who  had  been  brought 
up  in  a  hut  on  the  ^(^g^  of  a  great,  wild,  mountainous 
common  in  Spain.  The  first  thing  she  clearly  re- 
membered was  that  she  had  been  snatched  up  from 


84  FIVE  DAYS'  ENTERTAINMENTS 


the  straw  on  which  she  lay  (her  cradle)  one  winter's 
night,  and  had  been  carried  out  by  her  mother  into 
the  cold  air,  whilst  the  little  hut  in  which  they  lived 
had  gone  up  all  in  fire  and  smoke  behind  them.  She 
was  then  but  three  years  old,  but  the  blaze  of  the 
flame  had  as  it  were  burnt  the  whole  scene  clearly 
into  her  memory,  and  she  remembered  being  told 
afterwards  it  was  because  one  of  the  gipsies  was 
thought  to  have  stolen  the  child  of  some  rich  parents 
and  carried  it  off  to  their  camp,  where  the  magistrates' 
officers  who  had  been  sent  to  search  for  it  had  lighted 
the  huts  from  anger  at  not  finding  what  they  came  to 
hunt  for.  This,  as  I  said,  was  the  first  thing  that 
Gisella  remembered  ;  but  while  she  was  yet  a  little 
thing,  she  would  sometimes  talk  of  a  strange  dream 
she  had  dreamt  when  a  baby — all  about  a  great  king's 
house  and  many  servants  and  lights,  where  she  had 
played  with  other  children  like  herself,  and  whence 
she  had  been  taken,  she  knew  not  how  ;  for  no  one  can 
say  why  it  is  that  dreams  end  as  they  do.  But  her 
mother  did  not  like  to  hear  her  little  daughter  talk 
of  this  dream,  and  on  that  very  account  it  probably 
turned  out  that,  as  she  grew  up,  this  was  one  of  the 
few  remembrances  of  her  girlhood  whicli  Gisella  had 
not  forgotten. 

But,  as  I  was  saying,  she  now  lived  in  a  little 
gloomy  hut  with  her  parents  and  brothers  on  the 
edge  of  a  vast  common.     And  as  the  travellers  came 


THE  GIPSY  GIRL  285 


walking  or  riding  by — for  there  was  no  carriage- 
road — they  would  often  stop  at  the  gipsy  tents 
to  rest  a  while  and  to  give  themselves  and  their 
horses  drink  at  a  clear  stream  which  ran  not  far 
off.  And  then  Gisella  and  the  gipsy  women,  like 
other  women,  would  come  out  from  their  dens  and 
stand  at  the  door  (or  rather  the  chimney,  for  smoke 
and  sooty-looking  people  used  to  come  out  of  it), 
and  they  would  offer,  like  other  gipsies,  to  take 
the  traveller's  hand  (not  for  the  purposes  of  shaking, 
but)  in  order  to  look  at  the  marks  and  lines  on  the 
palm,  which  are  really  made  by  the  foldings  in  the 
skin,  but  which  they  pretended  were  a  kind  of  book, 
or  prophetical  writing,  from  which,  by  the  art  of 
palmistry,  as  it  was  called,  they  declared  they  could 
tell  the  travellers'  '*  fortunes,"  or  what  was  about 
to  happen  to  them  in  the  rest  of  their  lives.  I  need 
not  tell  you  that  the  gipsies  knew  and  cared  no 
more  of  what  was  going  to  happen  to  the  travellers 
who  passed  by  than  you  or  I  should  ;  nor  need  I 
say  how  foolish  it  was  in  the  one,  and  how  wrong 
in  the  other,  to  have  anything  to  do  with  such  false 
prophecies.  But  so  the  gipsies  have  lived  for  many 
hundred  years  ;  and  it  was  not  the  most  dishonest 
way  most  of  them  had  to  come  by  their  living.  Of 
course,  too,  the  more  money  they  received  from  any 
one  who  asked  his  fortune,  the  better  fortune  they 
promised  him  ;  for  promises  are  cheap.     And   if  any 


286  FIVE  DAYS'  ENTERTAINMENTS 


one  who  came  by  twice  had  stopped  to  ask  himself, 
he  might  have  remembered,  that  if  the  gipsies  had 
promised  that  he  would  marry  a  rich  merchant's  only 
daughter  for  half-a-crown,  for  ten  shillings  they  had 
given  him  hopes  that  he  would  wed  a  princess  as 
beautiful  as  the  moon  and  brighter  than  the  sun — 
for  this  was  commonly  the  best  thing  they  took  the 
liberty  to  promise. 

Now,  one  fine  summer's  day,  it  came  to  pass  that 
Antonio  Valdez,  a  young  man  dressed  like  a  mer- 
chant, with  a  great  money-pouch  and  air  of  business 
— for  he  was  travelling  from  Toledo  to  Seville  on 
business  for  his  father,  a  great  wine-merchant  in  the 
province  of  Andalusia — rode  by  the  gipsy  camp. 
As  he  saw  Gisella,  now  a  pretty  girl  of  sixteen,  stand 
at  the  door  of  her  hut  and  beckon  him  towards 
her,  he  alighted  from  his  horse,  and  giving  it  to  his 
servant  to  hold,  he  walked  up  to  the  young  maiden. 
Gisella,  who  had  been  brought  up  like  other  gipsies, 
and  never  thought  of  right  or  wrong  in  doing  what 
they  did — poor  thing,  she  knew  no  better  ! — offered 
at  once  to  tell  Antonio  his  fortune  ;  which,  she  said, 
looking  firmly  at  him  with  her  large  dark  eyes,  she 
was  sure  would  be  a  good  one.  Antonio  had  never 
before  seen  any  one  so  beautiful  as  Gisella — standing 
there,  before  the  miserable  hut,  with  her  long  dark 
hair  and  dark  eyes,  and  bright  ruddy  colour,  like 
a  precious  stone  on  a    dust-heap.      Pulling  out    his 


THE  GIPSY  GIRL  287 

leathern  purse,  he  put  it  in  her  hand,  and  bid  her 
tell  him  whatever  she  chose  ;  whatever  came  from 
her  lips,  he  said  with  a  low  bow,  he  should  be  satis- 
fied with  it. 

Gisella  took  his  right  hand,  spread  it  carefully 
out,  and  looked  closely  at  the  palm,  noticing  the 
marks  and  lines  that  crossed  it  from  wrist  to  first 
finger.  She  made  Antonio  fold  it,  and  open  it 
again,  and  fold  it,  and  meanwhile  she  seemed  to 
murmur  strange  things  to  herself.  At  last  she  said, 
*'  Merchant,  your  fortune  is  to  marry  a  king's 
daughter." 

"  How  could  you  tell  that  I  am  a  merchant  ? " 
asked  Antonio,  with  much  surprize,  and  some  terror. 

"  Oh  !  do  not  think  anything  is  hidden  from  me," 
answered  Gisella,  mysteriously. 

"  What  is  the  name  of  my  princess  t "  said  he. 

"  That  is  hidden  from  me  by  a  cloud,"  replied  she  ; 
'*  but  come  again  in  a  month's  time,  and  I  will  tell 
you." 

"  Do  not  fear  but  so  I  will,"  said  Antonio,  with  a 
low  bow.  ''  If  I  don't,  fry  me  in  garlic  !  "  thought  he, 
as  he  mounted  his  horse  and  rode  off  towards  the 
city  of  Seville. 

All  the  way  Antonio  thought  of  Gisella,  of  her 
beauty,  her  wonderful  knowledge,  her  wretched 
gipsy  life,  and  of  the  princess  she  had  promised 
him.     '*  I  had  rather  she  were  my  wife  than  all  the 


288  FIVE  DAYS'  ENTERTAINMENTS 


princesses  in  Spain  and  both  the  Indies,"  thought 
he  ;  "  and  I  will  have  her,  come  what  may  of  it ! 
What  do  you  think  of  it,  Pedro  ?  "  said  he,  turning 
to  his  servant.  ''  I  think  your  honour  is  much  fitter 
for  a  princess  than  a  gipsy  ;  and  they  say  they 
never  marry  anybody  except  one  of  themselves — 
gipsies  to  gipsies  :  so  it  should  be,  master,"  answered 
Pedro.  "  But  an  ass  laden  with  gold  can  jump  over 
a  mountain,"  he  murmured  to  himself — (his  master 
did  not  hear  him,  but  I  did) ;  *'  and  so  his  honour 
can  marry  a  gipsy  girl  if  he  likes,  no  doubt."  And 
they  did  not  waste  any  more  words  for  the  rest  of 
their  journey. 

But  Antonio  thought  over  what  his  servant  had 
said.  "  Well,  come  what  will,  I  must  have  her, 
though  she  makes  a  gipsy  of  me,"  thought  he. 
And  so,  when  the  month  was  nearly  over,  during 
the  whole  of  which  he  did  not  once  wash  his  face, 
dressing  himself  up  in  an  old  dirty  coat,  and  combing 
his  hair  down  wildly  over  his  forehead — by  all  of 
which  means  he  thought  he  made  himself  look  very 
like  a  gipsy — he  set  out  on  foot,  and  with  no  com- 
panion, for  the  camp.  But  what  was  his  grief  and 
astoni^ment  when,  on  reaching  the  spot,  he  found 
the  huts  gone,  and  no  signs  of  any  living  creature 
near.  Nothing  remained  except  a  few  tall  poles  on 
which  the  tents  had  been  hung,  and  the  blackened 
circles  on  the  turf  Avhere  the  fires  had  been  lighted. 


THE  GIPSY  GIRL  289 


What  should  he  do  ?  There  was  no  one  who  could 
tell  him  whither  the  gipsies  had  moved,  or  would 
have  cared  to  do  so  if  they  had  known.  He  wan- 
dered about  over  the  ground  till  he  found  the  place 
where  the  hut  had  stood  at  the  door  of  which  he 
had  seen  Gisella.  He  looked  down  on  the  ashes  of 
the  fire,  and  thought  of  the  beautiful  maiden  who 
had  so  often  kindled  it.  And  as  he  looked  he  saw, 
or  thought  he  saw,  traced  out  on  the  ashes  the 
words,  "If  the  merchant  of  Toledo  seeks  me,  he 
will  find  me  near  him."  And  then  Antonio  started 
for  joy,  and  he  looked  round,  and  called  out,  **  Gisella, 
Gisella ! "  But  no  one  answered.  *'  She  laughs  at 
me,"  he  thought.  And  then  again,  in  a  gentle  whisper, 
he  called,  looking  towards  the  bushes  by  the  stream- 
let's bank,  "  Gisella  !  "  but  still  no  one  answered.  '*  If 
he  seeks  me,  he  will  find  me  near  him ;"  he  read 
the  words  aloud.  **  I  see  it !  I  see  it !  "  he  shouted 
out,  striking  his  hand  against  his  side.  "  She  knows 
everything  that  concerns  me  ;  she  knew  where  I  was 
going."  And  without  a  moment's  delay  he  set  forth 
once  more  on  his  return  to  Seville. 

It  was  evening  before  he  reached  the  city.  No 
one  knew  Antonio,  the  rich  merchant's  son,  in  his 
strange  dress,  and  so  he  wandered  freely  on  from 
street  to  street  in  search  of  the  gipsies.  And  as  he 
passed  through  the  great  square  he  saw  a  large 
crowd  gathered  together  at  the  door  of  what  seemed 

U 


290  FIVE  DAYS'  ENTERTAINMENTS 

a  theatre  hastily  put  up  with  rude  boards  *  and 
scaffold-poles  for  some  travelling  players  to  show 
themselves  in. 

Antonio  pressed  his  way  in  among  the  throng,  and 
entered  the  theatre.  On  a  sort  of  stage,  a  gallery 
at  the  further  end,  stood  a  crowd  of  gipsies  in  their 
strange  dress,  who  seemed  to  be  preparing  to  sing 
some  of  their  rude  ballads  for  the  amusement  of  the 
lookers-on.  Antonio  strained  his  eyes  to  see  if  he 
could  among  them  discover  his  fair  Gisella,  but  in 
vain.  Still,  however,  he  continued  gazing  as  if  some 
spell  bound  him  to  the  spot,  till  his  eyes  could 
scarcely  trust  themselves,  when  the  gipsy  band 
divided  and  gave  way,  and  Gisella,  such  as  he 
remembered  her,  came  forward  with  hasty  steps  to 
the  front  of  the  stage.  Her  long  hair  fell  streaming 
over  her  shoulders,  and  she  looked  more  beautiful, 
he  thought,  than  ever,  as  with  a  clear  distinct  voice 
she  poured  forth  a  wild  native  song,  while  the  rest 
of  her  company  kept  time  to  her  words  with  the 
music  of  shrill  flutes  and  rattling  castanets  : 

O'er  hill  and  o'er  valley 

By  village  and  city 
As  we  halt  and  we  wander, 

We  chant  our  wild  ditty. 
From  cities  men  chase  us, 

But  we  flee  to  the  mountain, 
To  feast  in  the  wild  woods, 

To  drink  at  the  fountain. 


THE  GIPSY  GIRL  29 1 


From  the  mountains  they  chase  us 

Earth  finds  us  a  haven, 
A  honie  with  the  Avild  deer, 

A  nest  with  the  raven. 
They  pass  us  with  laughter. 

Yet  they  turn  them  to  hear  us  ; 
We  bend  our  dark  eyes, 

And  they  tremble  and  fear  us. 
For  where'er  we  may  wander, 

The  stars  wander  o'er  us, 
And  the  light  of  their  wisdom 

Is  shining  before  us. 
As  we  gaze  and  we  mutter 

Man  weeps  and  rejoices  : 
For  their  eyes  are  in  our  eyes, 

Their  voice  in  our  voices. 
Love  lies  at  our  feet, 

Love  awaits  our  disclosing  : 
Life  bows  at  our  bidding. 

Death  fears  our  disposing. 


As  Gisella  ended,  her  eyes  met  Antonio's  steadily 
fixed  on  her  countenance.  Was  it  the  shouting  and 
applause  which  the  crowd  raised  at  her  song,  or 
what  was  it  .'*  The  colour  left  her  glowing  cheeks  ; 
but  without  a  word  she  gently  waved  her  hand 
towards  him,  as  entreating  that  he  would  give  no 
sign  that  he  knew  her.  For  at  this  moment  the 
whole  company  of  the  gipsies  came  forward,  and 
ranging  themselves  in  groups,  invited  the  crowd  to 
draw  near,  if  now  they  desired  to  learn  what  their 
future  lives  would  be.  The  people  shouted,  and  ran 
violently  onwards,  hardly  knowing  what   they  did,  so 

U  2 


292  FIVE  DAYS'  ENTER TA INMENTS 


much  were  their  minds  moved  and  stirred  up  b}- 
the  strange  song  they  had  heard  and  the  wild  looks 
and  gestures  of  the  gipsies.  In  the  hurry  some  lost 
their  footing,  and  fell  ;  the  rest,  unable  to  draw  back, 
pushed  on  over  them :  and  presently  the  whole 
theatre  was  filled  with  loud  shrieks  and  voices  of 
terror.  Then  a  loud  shout  arose  :  "  It  is  the  gipsies  ! 
the  magicians  !  At  them  !  they  have  done  it !  "  And 
as  the  ignorant  crowd,  made  foolish  by  fear,  is  easily 
led  on  to  fury,  without  reflecting  that  it  was  no 
fault  of  the  strangers  if  mischief  had  befallen,  the 
foremost  leapt  and  clamb  upon  the  stage  and  began 
roughly  to  handle  the  gipsies,  who,  now  terrified 
in  their  turn,  endeavoured  to  fly  from  the  danger. 
Gisella,  who  stood  foremost  in  the  company,  was  the 
first  they  reached.  Already  she  was  dragged  off 
amid  shouts  and  cries,  and  it  seemed  likely  that  her 
life  would  have  been  violently  taken,  when  Antonio, 
rushing  boldly  forward,  with  one  stroke  of  his  doubled 
fist  struck  down  the  tallest  of  those  about  her,  and 
clasping  her  in  his  arms,  dragged  her  in  safety  forth 
from  the  building. 

A  great  crowd  went  after  him,  and  shouts  of  "  To 
prison  !  to  prison  with  the  gipsies  ! " — for  such  they 
took  Antonio  to  be — sounded  in  their  ears.  "  To 
the  King, — to  the  King  with  them  !  "  cried  others,  as 
in  their  flight  they  passed  the  open  gates  of  the 
palace,  which  stood  on  one  side  of  the  great  square. 


THE  GIPSY  GIRL  293 


"  Oh,  to  the  king,"  said  Gisella,  softly,  to  Antonio. 
"  It  is  for  hfe  or  death."  And,  while  the  increasing 
crowd  still  pursued  and  pressed  on  before  them, 
through  guards  and  servants  the  two  forced  their 
way  within  to  the  main  Hall  of  the  Palace. 

Mobs  and  tumults  such  as  this  are  not  uncommon 
in  Spain  ;  and  the  King,  who  was  at  this  moment  in 
one  of  the  inner  chambers,  learning  presently  what 
had  taken  place,  came  forth  without  delay  to  do 
justice  on  the  offenders.  Taking  his  seat  on  the 
throne,  he  commanded  Antonio  and  Gisella  to  be 
brought  before  him,  and  asked  what  they  could  say 
to  defend  themselves. 

Antonio  spoke  boldly,  and  made  it  clear  to  the 
King  how  the  accident  and  the  confusion  in  the 
theatre  had  arisen.  Others  who  had  been  present 
then  replied  ;  but  after  the  space  of  a  few  minutes, 
the  King,  rising  up,  declared  Antonio  and  Gisella 
guiltless  of  what  was  laid  to  their  charge. 

O  how  happy  they  felt  at  their  escape  !  They  had 
just  begun  to  look  at  each  other — and  I  dare  say 
they  would  not  have  waited  till  they  were  out  of 
the  palace  to  begin  talking — when  the  King  com- 
manded a  silence,  and  said,  that  by  the  laws  of 
Spain  no  one  of  the  race  of  the  gipsies  was  suffered 
to  dwell  within  the  kingdom.  And  inasmuch  as  they 
had  broken  this  law,  he  condemned  them  both  to 
ten  years  of  imprisonment. 


294  FIVE  DAYS'  ENTERTAINMENTS 

"  I  am  no  gipsy  !  Hear  me  !  "  cried  Antonio,  from 
whose  mind,  in  the  haste  of  the  moment,  the  appear- 
ance which  he  bore  had  entirely  passed.  "  I  am  no 
gipsy;  I  am  the  son  of  Antonio  Valdez,  merchant 
of  Toledo  ! " 

**  Your  dress  convicts  you,"  answered  the  King ; 
"  you,  and  the  maiden  with  you.  No  more  !  "  said 
he,  seeing  that  Antonio  was  prepared  to  speak. 
"  Guards,  take  them,  and  lead  them  to  prison.  There 
bind  them  with  chains,  that  they  may  know  their 
a"ime.     They  have  broken  the  laws  of  our  kingdom." 

But  at  this  moment  a  loud  cry  of  "  The  Queen  ! 
the  Queen  ! "  arose  in  the  crowd  behind.  All  eyes 
were  fixed  on  her  as  she  flung  suddenly  forward  from 
the  King's  side,  and,  casting  herself  on  her  knees, 
seized  Gisella's  hand,  held  it  to  her  eyes,  and  kissing 
it  with  many  tears  of  joy,  cried,  "Catherine!  Cathe- 
rine !  my  daughter !  my  own  Catherine ! "  Then 
turning  to  the  King,  •'  It  is  her  hand.  Look,  it  is 
Catherine's  !  Look,  here  is  the  scar ! — the  scar  of  the 
cross  which  her  nurse  pricked  on  the  palm  when 
she  was  an  infant." 

The  King  looked,  and  was  silent.  He  could  not 
speak.  His  hand  trembled  violently  as  he  laid  it 
on  her  arm.  "  Look  ! — oh,  look  !  "  cried  she.  "  Oh! 
is  it  not  so  } "  glancing  at  him  in  an  agony  of  fear. 
But  his  look  was  sufficient. 

And   now  a  low,  joyous,   and    increasing  murmur 


THE  GIPSY  GIRL  295 


arose  among  the  crowd  :  for  the  story  how  the  Prin- 
cess had  been  stolen  from  the  palace  when  a  child 
but  three  years  old — it  was  said,  by  the  gipsies — and 
how  the  King  and  Queen,  her  parents,  had  long- 
sorrowed  over  their  lost  treasure,  and  sorrowed  in 
vain,  was  well  known  in  Seville.  The  Queen  still 
gazed  on  her  daughter,  and  was  silent.  Silence  was 
the  "  perfectest  herald  of  her  joy :  she  had  been 
little  happy,  could  she  have  said  how  much." 

"  Oh,  was  it  so  1  was  Gisella  really  the  King's 
daughter  1 "  cried  the  children,  suddenly  bursting  in  ; 
''  was  she,  really  } "  And  they  started  up  at  once  and 
pressed  close  to  Arthur.  For  he  had  so  told  the  tale 
to  the  life,  with  signs  and  suppressed  whispers,  and 
then  again  with  louder  bursts  of  voice,  that  they 
almost  thought  all  he  said  was  going  on  before  them. 
"  Oh,  was  it  really  so  } " 

"  Really — really  ;  so  at  least  I  believe,  on  the  best 
authority,"  answered  he,  with  a  smile,  and  a  tone  so 
serious  that  Emily,  do  what  she  could,  laughed  aloud 
to  hear  him. 

"  Hush  !  hush  ! "  cried  Mrs.  Wentworth,  ''  you  will 
break  the  spell !  You  know  we  have  not  yet  heard 
how  Antonio  married  the  Princess,  as  Gisella  had 
promised  he  should  when  she  told  his  fortune." 

"  I  think  I  must  leave  you  all  to  imagine  that," 
said  Arthur,  stepping  quickly  down  from  his  place  by 


296  FIVE  DA  YS'  ENTERTAINMENTS 

the  side  of  the  rosewood  table  which  had  served  as 
pulpit  or  platform  to  so  many  discourses,  amid  the 
astonished  looks  of  the  younger  children.  "  I  hope 
you  are  satisfied,"  added  he  :  "  Why,  you  are  as  silent 
and  appear  as  surprized  as  the  Queen  herself!" 

'*And  so  he  did  marry  a  Princess!"  cried  Lucy, 
speaking  before  the  rest  had  recovered  themselves. 
"  I  see  how  it  was,  Arthur  !  But,  dear  Arthur, — no, 
indeed,  I  am  not  quite  satisfied — not  quite ;  and  I  will 
tell  you  why." 

"  Why  1 " 

"  Because  it  is  the  last  story,"  said  she,  running  up 
and  kissing  him. 

"  Oh,  do  tell  us  one  more  ! — do  tell  us  them  all  over 
again,"  cried  out  the  little  ones,  roused  by  the  import- 
ance of  the  moment,  and  speaking  once  more  together. 

"  Anything  to  please  you — a  slice  of  the  moon,  or  a 
brick  ofif  the  chimney  corner,"  said  Arthur.  "  But 
why,"  added  he,  turning  to  the  lady  hostess,  "■  are  not 
you  satisfied  .'' " 

"  How  did  you  know  I  was  not  t "  said  Mrs. 
Wentworth. 

"  Because  I  read  it  in  your  eyes,"  said  he. 

"  Well,  it  is  because  not  only  you,  but  the  rest  also 
seem  to  me  not  to  have  kept  so  closely  to  your  subject 
as  you  should.  You  have  handled  it — if  I  may  say 
so  (it  is  the  last  day,  you  know) — without  sufficient 
feeling." 


THE  GIPSY  GIRL  297 


"  It  is  the  hardest  of  all  in  that  point,"  said  Emily  ; 
"  so,  as  before,  we  beg  your  forbearance." 

*'  I  was  thinking,"  continued  Mrs.  Wentworth,  "that 
it  would  be  very  pretty  if  you  could  manage  to  com- 
bine the  subjects  of  the  Five  Days  into  one  ;  and  so 
give  a  graceful  close  to  the  entertainment." 

''  Agreed  !  agreed  !  "  said  Arthur,  with  a  bow  to 
Mrs.  Wentworth. 

**  Well,"  said  she,  smiling,  "  I  see  your  meaning  ! 
Only  you  must  give  me  a  few  minutes'  law.  Though, 
indeed,  I  am  not  sure,"  added  she,  as  the  bright  sun- 
beams, relieved  from  the  long-spread  veil  of  clouds, 
burst  laughingly  through  the  windows,  "  I  am  not 
sure  that  the  weather  is  not  against  us.  You  know, 
your  stories  were  only  told  by  way  of  amusement 
when  nothing  better  could  be  had  out  of  doors." 

"Our  works  have  no  doubt  had  the  advantage  of  a 
feeble  light  to  conceal  their  defects,"  said  Arthur  ; 
"  but  I  cannot  question  but  that  yours,  Mrs.  Went- 
worth, will  bear  a  closer  examination.  So  with  your 
leave  we  will  take  the  little  ones  into  the  garden,  and 
await  your  leisure  beneath  the  great  beech-tree  on  the 
lawn." 

Mrs.  Wentworth  was  content.  Like  a  swarm  of 
bees  set  loose  from  the  hive  (and  let  us  hope  that  the 
stores  they  had  there  gathered  may  prove  like  honey 
to  other  young  listeners)  the  whole  party  rushed  out 
on  the  lawn ;  and  a  happy  half-hour  or  so  was  there 


298  FIVE  DA  YS'  ENTERTAINMENTS 

celebrated  with  shrieks  of  joy  and  laughter,  with  leap 
and  race,  and  gathered  fruits  and  flowers,  until  the 
appearance  of  two  ladies,  who  walked  with  grave  and 
measured  steps  to  the  turf  seat  below  the  beech-tree, 
caused  them  to  collect  themselves  once  more  for  the 
last — positively  and  most  decidedly  the  last — of  their 
Five  Days'  Entertainments. 

"  What  an  unexpected  pleasure,"  cried  Emily,  as 
she  ran  up  first,  out  of  breath  with  the  speed  of  her 
own  running,  and  heartily  shook  Miss  Cobham's  hand, 
"  What  an  unexpected  pleasure  !  " 

"  If  it  is  so  to  you,  I  am  sure  it  is  so  to  me,"  replied 
their  kind  governess,  welcoming  in  turn  each  of  her 
young  pupils  as  they  came  up  with  laughing  eyes, 
parted  lips,  and  heightened  colour,  to  throng  and  cast 
themselves  about  her.  "  In  crossing  from  one  friend's 
house  to  another  my  road  led  me  to  pass  within  a 
few  miles  of  the  Grange,  and  I  could  not  resist  the 
temptation  of  looking  in  ;  even  though  I  bring  recol- 
lections of  school  into  the  midst  of  holidays." 

''  Good  things  each  in  their  turn,"  cried  Anna, 
gaily,  "  each  in  their  turn — but  you  with  both." 

"  Thanks,  thanks,"  answered  she.  And  with  a 
heightened  feeling  of  pleasure  the  party  arranged 
themselves,  as  best  they  could,  on  the  short  dry 
turf  beneath  the  overshadowing:  branches. 


'IHK    NKW   (;R1SK1J)A 


THE  NEW  GRISELDA  299 


MRS.  WENTWORTH'S   TALE 

THE   NEW   GRISELDA  * 

Some  six  thousand  years  ago,  they  say  it  was — 
and  so  before  I  can  easily  remember — there  lived  on 
the  banks  of  the  river  Euphrates,  a  Prince  named 
Edma,  who  reigned  over  the  whole  land  of  Mesopo- 
tamia. His  wife,  the  Princess  Ginevra,  was  the  most 
beautiful  princess  whom  men  had  ever  seen  :  and, 
except  that  at  the  time  I  am  telling  you  of,  they 
had  no  children,  they  lived  together  in  the  greatest 
happiness. 

But  stop,  children,  (said  Mrs.  Wentworth,  putting 
her  hand  before  her  forehead,)  what  am  I  about ; 
I  have  forgotten  my  preface ;  it  ought  to  have  come 
first,  I  suppose  —  you  must  excuse  me !  you  know 
I  did  not  expect  the  honour  of  having  to  tell  a  story. 

Well,  as  I  was  saying — no,  as  I  was  not  saying, 
only  I  meant  to  say  it.  You  know,  children,  how  in 
your  story-book  one  tale  is  very  often  like  another, 
so  that  what  looks  like  a  new  book  has  often  very 
little  really  new  in  it.  And  I  daresay  you  have  been 
often  disappointed  so  to  meet  old  friends  in  a  new 
dress.  But  the  fact  is,  and  it  is  a  curious  thing,  that 
all  the  world  over  we  find  that  much  the  same  stories 


300  FIVE  DA  YS'  ENTERTAINMENTS 

have  been  told  from  the  beginning.  Perhaps  it  is 
because  children,  and  grown-up  children  whom 
people  call  men  and  women,  are  alike  all  over  the 
earth.  However  this  may  be,  there  seems  to  be 
something  like  a  circle  of  tales,  which  come  over  and 
over  again,  and  repeat  themselves  in  all  times  and 
places.  And  so  the  story  I  am  going  to  tell  will 
remxind  you  of  that  famous  tale  of  the  Patient 
Griselda  which  you  have  probably  all  read.  You 
will  remember  how  cruelly  Griselda  was  treated  by 
her  husband  the  Count :  how  he  took  her  children 
away  from  her,  and  said  that  he  would  marry  another 
wife  in  her  place  :  and  all  to  see  whether  she  loved 
him  or  no  :  and  how  patiently  and  quietly  she  bore 
it  all :  and  how  she  was  rewarded  for  her  love  and 
her  patience  in  the  end.  Perhaps  indeed  the  story 
was  copied  from  what  I  am  going  to  tell :  as  Griselda 
did  not  live  so  long  ago  as  Ginevra,  only  this  you 
must  judge  of  for  yourselves. 

But  Ginevra  and  Edma,  as  I  was  saying,  had  lived 
together  happily  for  many  years.  At  last,  however, 
the  Prince  heard  that  an  army  of  the  giants  was  about 
to  march  into  his  kingdom,  and  to  take  him  prisoner. 
So  he  gathered  together  his  armies,  and  took  leave  of 
his  dear  wife  with  many  tears,  only  telling  her  to  be 
sure  and  keep  the  orders  which  he  laid  upon  her,  and 
he  knew  she  was  left  in  good  hands,  as  he  had  begged 
his  own  mother,  Urganda,  to  come  and  take  care  of 


THE  NEW  GRJSELDA  3OI 


her  till    he    should    return    from    battle.      Now   this 
Urganda  was  a  very  powerful  fairy. 

("  Oh,  I  am  so  glad  of  it,  so  glad  ! "  cried  Lucy, 
clapping  her  hands. 

"  Don't  interrupt,  child,"  said  Mrs.  Wentworth, 
laughing,  ''  or  I  shall  never  finish.") 

Urganda  was  a  fairy,  and  as  soon  as  she  was  left 
to  take  care  of  the  Princess  Ginevra,  and  saw  how 
good  and  gentle  she  was,  she  determined  that  she 
would  put  her  to  trial — and  the  cause  of  Urganda's 
conduct  I  shall  afterwards  mention — to  see  how  far  she 
really  loved  her  husband,  and  how  far  she  would  be 
patient  under  misfortunes  ;  for  everything,  as  I  have 
said,  had  hitherto  gone  happily  with  her. 

And  so  after  a  while,  she  put  together  a  story,  and 
wrote  a  letter  to  the  Prince,  in  which  she  said,  that 
she  was  sure  that  his  wife,  for  all  that  seemed  to  the 
contrary,  did  not  love  him  as  she  ought  :  that  she 
had  a  pet  snake,  and  a  pet  bird,  to  which  she  had 
given  all  the  affection  and  care  that  she  should  have 
kept  for  him.  Nay,  further,  the  letter  said,  Ginevra 
had  broken  his  strict  order,  and  had  gone  into  the 
enchanted  orchard,  where  she  had  broken  off  three 
golden  apples  from  the  bough ;  and  zuhoin  Ginevra 
had  given  them  to,  Urganda  said,  she  did  not  know  : 
though  she  "could  not  but  fancy,  and  grieved  she 
was  to  think  it,"  that  Ginevra  must  have  presented 
them  to  the  powerful  and  wicked  king,  Lucidor,  who 


302  FIVE  DA  YS'  ENTERTAINMENTS 

was  one  of  Prince  Edma's  most  terrible  and  deadly 
enemies. 

All  this  was  of  course  quite  untrue  :  for  Ginevra 
was  far  too  good  and  gentle  to  disobey  her  husband 
in  anything  :  and  then,  she  had  been  brought  up  in 
piety  and  innocence  from  her  childhood  ;  so,  unless 
she  had  quite  changed  her  nature  suddenly,  how  should 
such  wicked  thoughts  ever  come  into  her  head  ? 

But  Edma  was  seized  with  rage  and  jealousy  when 
he  received  the  letter,  and  as  he  was  just  then  much 
pressed  in  battle  by  the  Giants,  he  sent  back  word  to 
Urganda  that  he  could  trust  her  wisdom,  and  her 
love  for  him  ;  so  he  gave  her  leave  to  have  full  power 
over  his  dear  and  faithful  Ginevra. 

When  Urganda  received  this  message,  she  began 
gradually  to  change  in  her  outward  bearing  and 
conduct,  and  in  all  ways  to  try  the  Princess.  Ginevra, 
as  I  said,  had  as  yet  no  children,  so  she  loved  her  pet 
animals  instead,  for  she  was  a  loving  creature.  And 
first  Urganda  took  away  one,  and  then  another,  till 
at  last  none  were  left  but  her  dear  little  Green  Bird, 
who  now  perched  himself  on  one  of  the  beams  of  the 
high  roof  of  Ginevra's  room,  so  that  Urganda  could 
not  lay  hands  on  him.  And  Ginevra  wept  bitterly 
as  these,  her  living  treasures  that  she  loved  and  cared 
for  so  dearly,  were  taken  from  her :  but  she  only  said, 
"  It  is  my  husband's  will :  he  may  do  as  it  seems  right 
to  him." 


THE  NEW  GRISELDA  3^3 

So  when  Urganda  saw  she  could  not  move  her  to 
impatience  by  means  such  as  these,  she  devised  a 
further  plan  to  try  her.  And  one  day,  as  Ginevra 
sat  in  her  room  and  thought  of  her  husband,  the 
Fairy  came  in,  and  said  gaily  she  had  news  to  tell  of 
the  Prince. 

Ginevra  thought  by  Urganda's  voice  that  it  must 
be  good  news,  so  she  cried  out  cheerfully, 

"  Oh  !  what  is  it  ?  I  was  just  thinking  of  him  !  " 

"  He  has  forgotten  you,  and  has  married  another 
Princess,  the  daughter  of  one  of  the  Giants,"  said 
Urganda,  "  and  he  will  be  here  presently  :  so  prepare 
to  receive  the  new  Princess." 

Then  Ginevra  felt  very  sick  at  heart :  but  she  only 
looked  up  patiently  to  the  sky,  and  said,  *'  It  is  my 
husband's  will :  he  may  do  as  it  seems  right  to  him." 

But  when  the  time  now  drew  nigh  at  which  Ur- 
ganda had  said  Edma  would  return  and  bring  his  new 
wife  to  the  castle,  and  she  saw  that  the  Princess  'in 
her  humility  and  patience  made  all  things  ready  to 
receive  them,  and  prepared  herself  to  do  the  work  of 
a  servant  to  her  new  mistress — for  she  said,  '*  Oh,  if 
Edma  will  suffer  me  yet  to  remain  in  his  sight,  I  may 
be  happy" — then  the  seeming  cruel  Fairy  came  to 
her  and  said,  "  Ginevra,  I  have  another  letter  to-day 
from  the  Prince,  and  he  bids  me  say  that  you  shall 
no  longer  dwell  within  his  castle,  and  that  he  will  not 
suffer  you  to  see  him  again — for  you   love  him  not, 


304  FIVE  DAYS'  ENTERTAINMENTS 

and  so  he  loves  you  not.  But  before  he  comes,  you 
must  go  hence  and  spend  the  rest  of  your  days  on  the 
desolate  Island  of  Atlantis  :  so  now  make  ready  for 
the  journey." 

But  Ginevra  only  bowed  her  head  to  the  earth  in 
her  patience,  for  she  could  no  longer  bear  the  light  of 
the  sky  above,  and  said  gently,  "  It  is  his  will  :  he 
may  do  as  it  seems  right  to  him." 

And  then  the  Fairy,  who  had  determined  now  to 
try  Ginevra  to  the  uttermost,  lifting  up  her  thin  and 
withered  finger,  uttered  her  curse  on  the  Princess  in 
these  words  : — 

Senseless,  speechless,  cold,  alone, 
Charm'd  and  frozen,  stone  in  stone, 
Fair  Ginevra,  shalt  thou  stand  : 
Till  I  wave  my  signal  hand  : 
Till  the  curse  be  slowly  past  : 
Will  thy  love  unalter'd  last  ? 

The  words  were  scarcely  spoken  when  Ginevra  felt 
herself  carried  she  knew  not  whither.  The  last  glance 
of  her  eyes  showed  her  a  fair  island,  thick  with  woods 
and  gay  with  flowers,  and  the  shining  walls  of  a 
temple,  within  which  she  was  hurried.  Then  a  sudden 
shock  seemed  to  strike  her  ;  utter  darkness  and  un- 
consciousness fell  upon  her  soul,  and  she  stood  there 
like  a  statue,  knowing  no  more  of  the  Present  than  we 
do  of  the  Future. 

This  curse  was  the  last  and    most  cruel  trial  that 


THE  NEW  GR  IS  ELD  A  305 


Urganda  could  lay  upon  her.  Ginevra  now  knew 
nothing  :  she  could  neither  hear,  nor  see,  nor  feel  ;  for 
all  her  senses  had  been  taken  from  her  :  she  could 
hold  no  communion  with  things  about  her  :  the 
world  without  was  as  a  thing  she  had  never  known  : 
only  one  feeling  remained — that  of  pure,  simple  being  ; 
she  knew  that  she  was,  and  that  was  all.  As  that  fair 
Niobe  in  the  old  Grecian  story,  she  stood  there  with 
her  hair  flung  backwards,  her  eyes  turned  towards 
heaven — parted  lips  and  clasping  fingers —  like  one 
transfigured  into  marble. 

And  was  there  no  help  for  her  .?— no  hope  .^  Edma 
knew  not  what  had  happened  ;  he  was  deceived  by 
Urganda's  false  letters.  He  thought,  even  now,  of 
his  Ginevra  as  careless — for  as  unfaithful  to  his  love 
he  could  never  think  of  her  :  he  tried  to  put  away 
the  thought  of  her  a  while  from  his  mind,  for  the 
war  with  the  Giants  raged  fiercely,  and  it  was  for  life 
or  death  that  he  was  fighting.  And  yet  Edma  loved 
Ginevra  still,  nor  ever  wavered  for  one  moment  in  his 
loyalty  towards  her. 

But  as  he  sat  one  day  in  his  tent,  thinking  over  the 
many  strange  things  that  had  befallen  him,  Ginevra's 
own  favourite  Green  Bird,  whom  Urganda  had  never 
been  able  to  take  from  her,  flew  in  ;  and  with  a  sharp 
cry  perched  above  his  head.  And  then  the  Bird 
spoke,  and  told  him  of  all  that  had  taken  place  since 
he  had   left   his  castle  ;    of  Urganda's  falsehood  and 

X 


306  FIVE  DA  YS'  ENTERTAINMENTS 


cruelty ;  of  Ginevra's  patience,  and  her  love  towards 
him  ;  and  of  what  had  now  befallen  her.  And  then 
grief  fell  on  Edma's  heart,  and  repentance  for  what 
he  had  done,  and  suffered  to  be  done,  to  his  fair  and 
faithful  wife.  "  Why  should  I  suffer  Urganda  to 
tempt  and  try  her  so  ?"  he  thought.  "  Was  it  for  me 
to  doubt  her  love  t "  And  then  again  wonder  and 
surprize  at  Urganda  came  over  him  ;  for  he  had 
received  little  except  kindness  from  her  in  his  own 
youth,  and  he  had  hitherto  loved  and  trusted  her  as  a 
son.  But  there  could  be  no  doubt  now,  he  thought, 
that  she  had  become  his  bitter  enemy — else  why  had 
she  so  deceived  him  .^  And  so,  gathering  together 
his  forces,  he  marched  back  with  what  haste  he  could 
towards  his  palace  in  the  centre  of  Mesopotamia. 

As  he  drew  near  to  the  palace,  Urganda  prepared 
herself  and  came  forth  to  meet  him.  But  she  was 
quite  alone,  for  no  one  of  Edma's  people  would  go 
with  her,  and  this  frightened  her  very  much.  So  she 
went  forth  into  the  garden  and  plucked  off  a  branch 
from  the  King's  own  tree  with  five  golden  apples  on 
it,  and  she  took  it  in  her  hand  and  went  out  into  the 
wood  by  the  palace  to  seek  her  fortune,  and  try  to 
gain  for  herself  whatever  aid  she  could. 

And  presently  she  found  a  table  spread  out  with  all 
manner  of  dainties  in  the  forest,  with  one  chair  set  at 
the  end  of  it.  And  the  food  from  the  dishes  placed 
itself  on  the  plate  in  front  of  the  chair,  and  then  it 


THE  NEW  GRISELDA  307 


seemed  to  lessen  and  melt  away  by  morsels ;  and  the 
wine  emptied  itself  into  the  glasses  that  stood  by,  and 
yet  she  could  not  see  who  it  was  that  emptied  them, 
for  there  was  no  one  near.  So  Urganda  went  on, 
and  at  fifty  miles  distance  she  found  a  Giant  sitting 
on  a  gate,  and  swinging  it  backwards  and  forwards, 
with  his  mouth  open.  "  What  are  you  doing  ? " 
asked  she. 

"  Fifty  miles  hence  is  a  feast  spread  in  the  forest," 
said  he,  "  and  I  am  tasting  the  dishes  and  the  wine 
that  are  on  the  table." 

"  Will  you  come  with  me  } "  asked  Urganda. 

"  W^hat  will  you  give  me  .'' "  replied  he. 

"  I  will  give  you  one  of  the  golden  apples  from  the 
King's  orchard,"  said  she  ;  "  so  follow  me,  and  we  two 
will  go  through  the  wide  world  together." 

So  when  they  had  gone  a  little  way  further  they 
found  a  huntsman,  kneeling  with  one  knee  on  the 
ground,  and  stretching  his  bow  with  his  left  hand. 
"What  are  you  shooting  at  V  asked  Urganda. 

"  Fifty  miles  hence  I  see  a  fly  sitting  on  a  bramble- 
bush,"  said  he  ;  ''I  am  going  to  hit  his  right  eye." 

"  O  will  you  come  with  me  } "  asked  Urganda. 

"  What  will  you  give  me  } "  replied  he. 

"  I  will  give  you  one  of  the  golden  apples  from  the 
King's  orchard,"  said  she  ;  "  so  follow  me,  and  we  three 
will  go  through  the  wide  world  together." 

X  2 


308  FIVE  DAYS'  ENTERTAINMENrS 

So  they  went  on  together  ;  and  presently  they  came 
to  a  place  where  some  windmills  were  standing  in  a 
row,  and  their  sails  were  turning  round  and  round  so 
fast  that  their  eyes  could  scarcely  see  them  :  but  when 
they  looked  right  and  left  they  could  find  no  trace  of 
wind,  and  not  a  leaf  of  the  aspen-trees  was  quivering. 
Then  Urganda  said,  "  I  see  the  sails  turning,  but 
where  is  the  wind  ? "  And  when  they  had  travelled 
on  for  fifty  miles  more,  they  saw  a  Dwarf  sitting  on  a 
bough,  who  was  holding  one  of  his  nostrils  close  with 
his  hand,  and  blowing  through  the  other. 

'*  Dwarf,  what  are  you  doing  ? "  asked  Urganda. 

"  Fifty  miles  hence  stand  seven  windmills,"  answered 
he  ;  "  look  how  they  turn  whilst  I  blow  1  " 

Then  Urganda  asked  him  to  come  with  her,  and  he 
answered  and  she  spoke ;  and  he  came  with  her  like 
the  others. 

Then  they  went  on,  and  after  a  while  they  found 
another  Giant,  who  was  lying  on  the  ground  with  one 
hand  on  his  right  ear.  "  What  are  you  doing  }  "  asked 
Urganda. 

"  I  am  listening  to  what  the  sun  and  the  seven  stars 
are  saying  to  each  other,"  answered  he. 

"  What  are  they  saying  t "  asked  she. 

"  No  matter,"  answered  he. 

And  she  gave  him  the  fourth  apple,  and  he  too 
came  with  her. 


THE  NEW  GRISELDA  3O9 


And  so  they  went  on  together  for  fifty  miles  more, 
and  then  they  saw  a  man  standing  on  one  J  eg,  but  the 
other  was  unbuckled  and  lay  on  the  ground  beside 
him. 

"  Ah,  sir,  you  look  comfortable,"  said  Urganda  to 
him. 

"  Like  chanticleer  on  his  perch,"  answered  he.  '*  I 
am  a  racer,  and  I  have  unbuckled  one  leg  and  taken 
it  off  that  T  may  not  run  too  fast;  for  when  I  run  with 
both  legs  on,  I  go  quicker  than  the  birds." 

"  O  buckle  on  your  other  one,  and  come  with  me  .' " 
said  Urganda. 

"  What  will  you  give  me,  if  I  do  .^ "  asked  he. 

"  I  will  give  you  one  of  the  golden  apples  from  the 
King's  orchard,"  answered  she  ;  "  so  follow  us,  and  we 
six  u  ill  go  through  the  wide  world  together." 

So  they  six  travelled  on  in  company,  and  presently 
they  came  in  sight  of  Edma's  army,  ranged  in  order 
of  battle  on  the  edge  of  a  great  hilL  "  Can  you  see 
Edma  } "  said  Urganda  to  the  Archer, 

"  I  cannot  see  the  King,"  answered  he,  "but  I  can 
see  the  General  of  his  troops  ;  and  I  will  shoot  an 
arrow,  and  strike  off  one  of  the  feathers  on  his 
helmet." 

And  then  the  Archer  drew  his  bow  and  shot .  but 
whether  it  was  by  accident  or  no  I  cannot  tell,  but  the 
arrow  was  aimed  a  little  too  low,  and  it  pierced   the 


3  lO  FIVE  DA  KV  ENTERTAINMENTS 

General  through  the  eye,  and  stretched  him  dead  on 
the  ground.  And  when  Edma's  troops  saw  that  their 
General  was  killed,  they  turned  round  and  fled,  and 
he  was  unable  to  stop  their  flight,  but  remained  alone 
on  the  field. 

So  presently  Urganda  marched  forward  to  meet 
him  ;  and  when  he  saw  her  he  cried  out, 

"  Where  is  Ginevra  ?" 

"You  will  never  see  her  more,"  said  she;  "she 
loves  you  no  longer." 

"  Take  me  prisoner  then,  and  kill  me  if  you  will," 
said  Edma  ;  "  for,  if  she  loves  me  not,  I  care  no  longer 
for  my  life." 

"  I  might  take  you  prisoner  at  once,"  answered 
Urganda,  "  but  I  will  not  be  cruel  to  you  ;  I  will  give 
you  one  chance.  One  of  my  servants  is  very  swift  of 
foot ;  you  may  run  with  him,  and  he  who  is  conquered 
shall  be  shut  up  for  his  life  in  the  highest  tower  of  the 
Palace." 

"  So  let  it  be,"  said  Edma.  And  it  was  agreed  that 
whoever  could  first  fetch  w^ater  from  a  spring  that 
burst  from  the  ground  a  long  distance  off  should  be 
conqueror. 

Then  Urganda's  racer  and  Edma  took  each  of  them 
a  pitcher,  and  started  for  the  race  at  the  same  mo- 
ment ;  but  in  a  moment,  before  the  Prince  had  made 
more  than  a  few  steps,  they  heard  a  sharp  whistle,  and 


THE  NEW  GRISELDA  3^ 


then  no  one  could  see  the  racer  any  more,  for  he  had 
darted  out  of  sight  Hke  the  wind.  In  another  moment 
he  was  at  the  fountain,  filled  his  pitcher  with  water,  and 
was  returning  back.  But  when  he  was  now  half  way 
on  his  return  he  felt  weariness  come  over  him,  so  he 
set  the  pitcher  down,  threw  himself  on  the  ground 
and  fell  asleep,  laying  his  head  on  a  block  of  wood 
that  was  in  the  way. 

Meanwhile  Edma,  who  could  run  as  well  as  any 
mere  man  could,  had  reached  the  fountain,  and 
hastened  back  with  his  pitcher  full  ;  and  when  he 
saw  the  racer  lying  asleep,  he  was  rejoiced  within 
himself,  and  cried  out,  "  The  enemy  has  given  himself 
into  my  hands  :"  and  with  that  he  turned  the  racer's 
pitcher  over  and  emptied  it,  and  continued  his  return 
towards  the  place  whence  he  set  out.  Now  Urganda 
thought  everything  lost,  when,  suddenly,  the  Archer 
with  his  sharp  eyes  saw  what  Edma  had  done,  and 
he  said,  "  The  Prince  shall  not  win  ;"  and  with  that 
he  took  up  his  bow  and  sent  an  arrow  so  cunningly 
that  it  pushed  away  the  block  of  wood  beneath  the 
racer's  head  without  hurting  him,  so  that  he  waked 
and  stood  up  :  and  he  saw  his  pitcher  empty,  and 
Edma  flying  back  to  the  starting-point.  But  his 
courage  did  not  fail :  he  seized  the  pitcher,  ran  back 
to  the  fountain,  and  then,  swifter  than  the  wind  or 
the  lightning,  was  at  Urganda's  feet  full  ten  minutes 
before  Edma  reached  them.   ''  Did  you  see  me  V  cried 


3 12  FIVE  DA  YS'  ENTERTAINMENTS 


he,  in  his  glory  ;  '*  I  only  used  my  legs  the  last  time  ; 
as  for  the  first,  I  could  not  call  that  running." 

So  Edma  was  defeated  :  and  then  Urganda  took 
him  and  carried  him  back  to  his  own  Castle  between 
the  Four  Rivers,  and  shut  him  up  in  the  highest 
tower,  and  threw  the  keys  into  the  Euphrates.  But 
when  night  came  on,  the  Green  Bird  spread  out  his 
wings  and  flew  up  high  through  the  air,  for  fear  lest 
the  Archer  should  see  him  and  bring  him  down — and 
then  in  by  the  little  grated  window  into  the  room 
where  Edma  was  lying  bound  with  heavy  chains. 
The  sight  of  the  Bird  gave  great  comfort  to  the 
Prince,  and  he  was  about  to  speak  ;  but  the  moment 
he  opened  his  lips,  the  Green  Bird,  who  knew  that 
Urganda  had  set  her  servant  to  listen  to  whatever 
went  on  in  the  tower,  flew  upwards  to  the  roof,  and 
fluttered  with  his  wings  as  if  alarmed.  So  Edma 
held  his  peace  and  spoke  not  a  single  word,  but  sat 
there  in  patience,  as  Ginevra  had  done,  for  ten  days 
and  nights  ;  and  at  the  end  of  that  time  he  began  to 
sufl*er  greatly  from  hunger  and  to  be  faint,  and  at 
last  he  cried  out,  "  Oh  that  I  were  in  the  cottage  of 
the  poorest  of  my  subjects,  for  they  want  not  bread 
or  water !" 

Immediately  a  table  seemed  to  rise  from  the  centre 
of  the  floor,  covered  with  dainties  and  with  wine. 
Edma,  however,  feared  at  first  to  touch  anything, 
thinking  there   might   be  poison  in  the  food,  for  he 


THE  NEW  ORIS  ELBA  3  I  3 


knew  it  must  have  been  brought  there  by  magic. 
But  the  Green  Bird  flew  down,  and  with  his  beak- 
plucked  some  o{  the  fruit,  as  if  to  assure  his  master 
there  was  no  danger.  Then  Edma  sat  down  to  the 
table.  But  at  once,  by  order  of  Urganda,  who  had 
caused  the  table  to  rise  in  the  dungeon,  the  Giant  who 
sat  in  the  lowest  room  of  the  tower  opened  his  mouth, 
and  in  a  moment  ate  up  the  whole  of  the  feast,  leaving 
Edma  still  more  faint  and  starving  than  before  ;  and, 
like  Tantalus  in  the  story,  all  the  more  miserable  for 
having  seen  what  he  was  not  permitted  to  handle. 
And  every  time  he  wished  for  food  the  same  magic 
was  repeated,  till  he  threw  himself  once  more  on  the 
boards  and  thought  that  now  at  last  his  life  must  pass 
from  him. 

But  Urganda  was  afraid  to  let  Edma  die  in  the 
tower,  lest  his  subjects  should  learn  it  and  should  rise 
and  punish  her.  So  she  sent  those  five  who  came 
with  her  from  the  forest  ;  and  they  took  him  and 
placed  him  on  the  top  of  the  tower  of  the  Castle  ;  and 
then  the  Dwarf,  closing  one  of  his  nostrils,  blew  with 
the  other  so  terrible  a  blast  that  Edma  was  lifted  high 
into  the  air  and  carried  he  knew  not  whither,  over  land 
and  sea,  till  at  last  he  was  cast  ashore  on  the  very 
island  in  which,  though  he  knew  it  not,  Ginevra  was 
now  standing,  changed  as  it  were  to  stone  by  the 
curse  with  which  Urganda  had  smitten  her. 

And    then    Urganda,    without    seeking    what    had 


3 1 4  FIVE  DA  YS'  ENTERTAINMENTS 


become  of  Edma,  took  possession  of  the  Castle  and 
city,  and  reigned  in  his  stead. 

Edma  was  presently  found,  and  kindly  used  by  the 
people  of  the  island  ;  and  after  they  had  given  him 
food,  his  strength  came  back  ;  aiid  as  he  did  not  know- 
where  he  was,  he  set  forth  early  in  the  morning  to 
travel  over  the  whole  island  and  to  see  what  might 
be  upon  it  ;  and  as  he  walked,  he  saw.  a  beautiful 
white  Temple,  built  of  the  purest  marble,  standing  like 
a  thing  all  of  light  in  the  midst  of  a  thick  cedar-wood  ; 
and  two  or  three  tall  cypresses  rose  like  dark  spires 
in  front  of  the  Temple.  It  seemed  to  be  a  festival 
day,  for  crowds  of  people  from  all  parts  of  the  island, 
dressed  in  gay  dresses,  and  with  garlands  of  fresh 
leaves  and  flowers  on  their  head,  were  advancing  in 
due  order  towards  the  door-ways,  from  which  the 
sound  of  beautiful  music  and  the  rich  scent  of 
burning  gums  and  incense  came  forth  and  floated 
on  the  sea-breezes.  Edma,  whose  whole  heart  and 
thoughts  were  set  upon  Ginevra,  felt  his  soul  sink 
within  him  at  the  sight  of  so  much  joy  and  gladness. 
He  sat  down  on  a  large  stone  that  lay  by  the  road- 
side near  the  temple  gate,  and  thought  over  all  that 
had  happened  ;  and  the  more  he  thought  of  it,  the 
more  strange  and  dreamlike  did  everything  appear 
that  had  taken  place  since  he  first  left  his  kingdom  to 
go  out  to  the  war.  It  seemed  strange  to  him  that 
Urganda   should    treat    one  who    had    done    her    no 


THE  NE  W  GRISELDA  3 1 5 


wrong  with  so  great  cruelty  :  strange  that  Ginevra 
had  never  sent  him  word  of  what  had  befallen  her : 
stranger  still  that  she  should  have  been  wanting  in 
love  towards  him.  He  began  to  think  he  must  have 
been  miserably  deceived — that  after  all  she  had  never 
loved  him,  or  else  she  would  now  surely  seek  him  out, 
or  at  least  send  him  tidings  of  herself  "  It  must  be 
true  what  Urganda  said,"  he  thought,  ''  and  she  must 
have  pretended  to  make  war  on  me,  and  then  sent  me 
forth  hither  in  order  that  I  might  not  know  how  my 
wife  had  deserted  me."  And  as  he  thought  this, 
Ginevra,  as  she  stood  there  within  the  Temple,  even 
in  her  frozen  and  senseless  state,  felt  a  cold  chill  pass 
over  her.  But  Edma  knew  it  not,  but  sat  there  mur- 
muring out  his  sorrows  to  himself  as  the  people  went 
by  him  rejoicing.  One  maiden  let  fall  her  garland  and 
went  onwards  without  perceiving  it.  Edma  took  up 
the  flowers  and  turned  them  over  in  his  hands,  while 
he  thought  of  the  day  when  first  he  saw  and  loved 
Ginevra  in  all  her  beauty.  "  She  was  my  flower 
then,"  he  said  to  himself ;  "  but  now  her  sweetness  is 
not  for  me.  Can  she  be  as  fair  as  when  first  I  saw 
her }  Is  her  beauty  less  1  That  cannot  be,"  he  thought. 
"  Yet,  if  I  saw  her  now  ;  ah  !  I  fear,  though  she  may 
be  no  less  fair,  yet  she  would  love  me  no  longer." 
And  then,  as  the  sound  of  the  music  floated  on  his 
ear,  the  words  of  a  song  rose  within  his  mind,  and  he 
whispered  it  over  to  himself  for  a  little  comfort : 


3 1 6  FIVE  DA  KS'  ENTERTAINMENTS 


SONG 

And  is  her  smile  as  fair,  as  when 

Its  light  to  love  first  call'd  me  : 
Her  blush  as  fleet :  her  voice  as  sweet 

As  when  it  first  enthralPd  me  ? 
The  golden  wave  of  locks  undimm'd  : 

The  eye  as  bright  and  tearless  : 
The  step  as  sure — the  heart  as  pure-- 

The  soul  as  frank  and  fearless  ? 

I  doubt  she  little  thinks  of  me, 

Nor  heeds  my  deep  despairing  : 
Yet  is  she  not  by  love  forgot, 

Uncared  for,  as  uncaring. 
But  is  she  still  the  Heav'n  she  was. 

For  which  my  fancy  panted  ? 
Or  has  the  spell  work'd  all  too  well. 

And  left  her  disenchanted  ? 

Ah,  how  can  Spring  be  aught  but  Spring, 

Though  mine  the  wintry  weather? 
How  can  it  be  the  charm  should  flee. 

Or  Love  from  Beauty  sever  ? 
I  doubt  not  that  her  eye  is  bright, 

Altho'  its  glance  disdains  me  : 
No  more  her  voice  bids  grief  rejoice — 

Her  Image  yet  enchains  me. 

Ah  !  if  he  had  known  the  curse  that  had  fallen  on 
his  dear  Ginevra,  his  thoughts  would  have  been  far 
different. 

But  now  Edma  rose,  and  following  the  last  of  the 
crowd,  entered  the  Temple  just  as  the  gates  were 
closing.     Louder  and  louder  music, — like  that  which 


THE  NEW  GRJSELDA  3  I  7 


some  of  you  may  have  heard,  children,  in  Mozart's 
opera  of  the  *'  Magic  Flute,"  where  Astrifiammante, 
the  Queen  of  Night,  comes  forward  in  her  starry 
splendour — rose  and  swelled  upon  his  ear  in  great 
chords,  as  he  walked  on  towards  an  Image  which  he 
saw  standing  at  the  furthest  end,  and  which  all  present 
within  the  Temple  seemed  to  worship.  Edma  looked 
up  :  one  glance — and  there  she  stood  ! — Ginevra  her- 
self— his  own  Ginevra — in  all  her  beauty,  before  him  : 
but  as  if  frozen  to  lifeless  marble.  A  loud  shriek 
burst  from  his  lips,  and  he  fell — senseless  like  her — 
upon  the  pavement. 

When  Edma  awoke  from  his  trance,  he  found  him- 
self alone  within  the  vast  hall,  face  to  face  with  the 
statue.  That  Image  enchained  him.  He  could  not 
move  from  before  her.  *'  Ginevra  1  Ginevra  !  "  he 
called  out  :  he  embraced  the  figure  :  he  clasped  her 
knees  :  he  called  again  :  but  there  was  no  hint  of  life 
or  hearing.  And  now  a  sudden  knowledge  darted 
into  his  mind  ;  and  he  saw  what  Urganda  had  wrought, 
and  what  the  curse  was  that  had  fallen  upon  Ginevra. 
He  looked  about  him  in  despair,  when,  lo !  through 
the  wide  opened  doors  of  the  Temple  the  Green  Bird 
flew  gaily  in,  and,  beating  the  air  with  his  wings,  bore 
himself,  thrice,  round  the  head  of  the  enchanted 
Princess. 

And  then  the  charm  which  Urganda  had  laid  upon 
her  began,  as  she  had  said,  slowly  to  pass  away  and 


3  1 8  FIVE  DA  YS'  ENTERTAINMENTS 


leave  her.  And  first — as  she  told  Edma  in  after 
times,  when  after  her  long  patience  her  senses  had 
been  fully  restored  to  her — she  seemed  to  awaken 
from  the  blind  sleep  in  which  the  days  had  gone  by 
since  Urganda's  curse  ;  and,  though  as  yet  with  her 
eyes  closed,  yet  to  feel  something  like  the  sweet 
scent  of  flowers  and  of  incense  :  although  indeed  she 
knew  not  what  they  were.  "  Before  this  took  place," 
she  said,  ''  I  w^as  aware  of  nothing :  not  even  of 
my  own  life.  I  had  forgotten  everything  :  T  was  an 
infant  once  more.  Only,  perhaps,  I  had  a  general 
feeling,  if  I  may  so  say,  that  Something  existed, 
though  that  that  something  was  myself  I  knew  not. 
It  is  hard  to  make  what  I  mean  clear,  but  it  was 
something  like  what  we  feel  in  dreams,  when  we  think 
we  see  our  own  selves,  separated  and  parted  from  our- 
selves, speaking  perhaps  and  acting,  and  yet  have  a 
hidden  knowledge  or  feeling  of  life  all  the  while. 
As  yet  I  knew  not  whether  these  flowers  belonged  to, 
and  were  part  of  me,  or  not  ;  for  this  was  the  only 
thing  by  which  I  had  any  knowledge  of  the  world 
without  me.  But  as  the  scent  of  roses  gave  way  to 
that  of  lilies,  and  that  again  perhaps  was  followed 
by  the  presence  of  the  burning  incense-gums,  as  the 
brazier  shifted,  a  new  knowledge — that  of  Number — 
arose  within  me.  One — two — three  :  I  could  count  the 
pleasures  as  they  followed  each  other.  Then  again, 
one  scent  was  sweeter  and  more  grateful  to  me  than 


THE  NE IV  GRISELDA  3 1 9 


the  rest  :  one  was  strong,  another  faint  ;  and  thus  the 
thought  or  idea  of  Difference  in  Goodness  and  Differ- 
ence in  Degree  came  before  my  mind." 

When  thus  a  week  had  gone  by,  again  the  Green 
Bird  returned  ;  and  again  flew  thrice  in  circles  round 
the  head  of  Ginevra.  And  then  she  awoke  to  the 
higher  sense  of  Hearing.  It  was  indeed  a  new 
pleasure  to  her,  whose  soul  had  so  long  dwelt  in  utter 
silence,  when  the  sounds  of  wind,  of  the  music  of  the 
Temple,  the  human  voices  of  those  within  it,  burst 
in  upon  her.  And  "Oh,"  she  said,  '"'when  first  your 
voice,  Edma,  fell  upon  my  ears,  it  seemed  like  some 
strange,  magic  music,  I  knew  not  yet,  clearly,  of 
anything  without  me,  nor  could  I  separate  what 
I  felt  from  my  own  very  life  and  being ;  and  yet, 
when  I  heard  you  speak,  when  you  said,  '  Take 
comfort,  little  one,'  the  spell  seemed  passing  away. 
I  was  all  happiness,  for  a  warmth  and  a  glow 
seemed  to  stir  within  me,  and  to  say  there  must  be 
something  beside  myself,  though  I  saw  it  not,  which 
cared  for  me  and  loved  me.  And  now  too — if  I 
am  to  tell  you  how  step  by  step  thoughts  and  feel- 
ings such  as  they  are  in  all  human  creatures  sprang 
up  in  my  soul — I  felt,  when  I  compared  Scent 
with  Sounds,  that  there  were  differences  not  only  in 
Degree — as  in  degree  of  pleasure — but  in  kind  and 
nature.  I  almost  felt  as  if  I  contained  two  selves, 
when  at  one  time  the  breath  of  music,  at  another  the 


320  FIVE  DAYS'  ENTERTAINMENTS 


breath  of  flowers,  floated  in  upon  my  dark  and  blinded 
soul.  But  above  all,  I  felt  myself  gifted  with  a  new 
power.  The  sense  of  Sound  without  awakened  the 
thought  of  Sound  within  me  :  I  could  move  my  lips — 
I  could  frame  and  utter  sounds  for  myself — I  could 
hear  myself  speak  !  " 

("  Oh,  what  were  her  first  words  }  tell  us  ;  do  "l  " 
cried  Lucy,  bursting  in  upon  her  mother's  story. 

"Need  I  tell  you.?"  answered  Mrs.  Wentworth. 
"Cannot  you  guess  them  for  yourself.''  I  think 
they  were  only  *  Edma  !  Edma! '  ") 

So  that  week  went  by.  And  in  the  next,  that  gift 
which  is  perhaps  of  all  others  the  most  precious,  was 
restored  to  our  patient  Ginevra.  She  opened  her 
long-closed  eyes,  and  saza.  Strange — very  strange — 
did  all  things  appear  to  her  at  first,  and  other  than  we 
see  them.  For  as  one  of  you,  children,  truly  said  on 
the  first  day  of  your  stories,  we  learn  to  use  our 
eyes  as  we  learn  to  use  our  tongues  ;  only  these  are 
commonly  the  forgotten  lessons  of  our  infancy,  which 
in  later,  conscious,  life  we  can  recall  no  more.  But 
Ginevra  had,  as  it  were— as  I  said  before — from  the 
effect  of  Urganda's  spell,  returned  to  her  childhood  : 
or  rather,  her  childhood  had  been  moved  into  her 
youth,  so  that  she  was  aware  of  what  goes  on  at  a 
time  when  most  of  us  are  aware  of  nothing.  And 
further,  as  I  said  before,  she  as  yet  knew  not  whether 
there  was  any   real    thing  except  herself :    she  could 


THE  NEW  GRISELDA  32  1 

draw  no  line  or  distinction  between  what  was  within 
and  what  was  without  her.  For  this  was,  as  you  will 
hear,  the  last  thin^^  of  w^hich  she  gained  knowledge. 
And  so  there  she  stood,  for  she  feared  to  move  :  for 
she  could /tr/  nothing  ;  and  she  knew  not  whether  the 
Temple  about  her,  and  the  palms  and  cypresses  of  the 
island  which  she  saw  through  the  open  doors,  and  the 
sunlight  that  streamed  in  through  the  roof,  and  the 
blue  sky  and  the  clouds  that  sailed  white  and  glow- 
ing, trembling  with  light  and  heat  above  her  ;  nay, 
whether  Edma  himself,  who  stood  before  her,  watch- 
ing and  waiting,  patiently  as  herself,  till  the  spell 
should  completely  pass,  were  not  so  many  fair 
pictures  and  creations  of  her  mind.  Was  not  this 
curious }  For  the  sense  of  Feeling — by  which  alone 
we  know  that  our  own  bodies,  and  all  things  beside,  are 
and  exist — was  as  yet  not  given  back  to  her.  If  her 
lips  moved  as  she  spoke,  if  the  pretty  colour  flushed 
and  faded  in  her  cheek  as  her  eyes  rested  upon  Edma, 
she  knew  it  not.  She  made  no  voluntary  movement. 
And  yet  that  gift  of  Sight  had  greatly  increased  the 
extent  and  range  of  Ginevra's  knowledge.  To  the 
knowledge  of  Number — to  the  knowledge  of  Differ- 
ence— she  could  now  add  the  knowledge  of  Form  and 
of  Colour — nay  more,  the  knoivlcdge  of  that  gift  which 
she  did  not  yet  partake — that  of  motion.  The  sun 
gave  her  no  heat,  for  she  could  not  feel  it ;  yet  she 
saw  him  rise  and  go  down  in  his  order.     The  breeze 


322  FIVE  DAYS'  ENTERTAINMENTS 

brought  her  no  coohiess  ;  yet,  not  only  by  the  rise 
and  fall  of  the  sound,  by  the  fluttering  of  her  dress 
and  the  waving  tops  of  the  cypresses,  she  could  count 
its  breathings. 

And  then,  as  the  days  went  by,  at  the  close  of 
another  week  she  knew  she  had  gained  the  new  power 
of  Taste,  though  at  first  only  by  the  increased  and 
altered  pleasure  which  the  sense  of  smell,  so  closely 
united,  as  you  know,  to  that  of  taste,  gave  her. 

But  we  must  here  leave  Ginevra  for  a  while  to 
return  to  the  history  of  her  old  enemy,  the  Fairy, 
Urganda.  For  a  time  she  reigned  in  peace  and  tri- 
umph over  Edma's  kingdom,  and  did  not  seem  to 
think  any  more  of  him  or  of  Ginevra.  But  at  last,  one 
day,  calling  one  of  her  servants  to  her,  she  bid  him 
listen  and  say  if  anywhere  he  heard  tidings  of  them. 
The  Giant  laid  his  ear  to  the  ground,  and  presently 
answered,  that  Edma  and  Ginevra  were  alive  and 
in  the  distant  island  of  Atlantis,  where  the  charm  that 
Urganda  had  laid  upon  the  fair  Princess  step  by  step 
was  passing  away  from  her.  Urganda  shrieked  with 
astonishment  at  the  news,  and  without  a  moment's 
delay  set  forth,  alone  and  unattended,  to  seek  them 
out  across  the  western  sea. 

After  a  while  she  reached  the  island  and  found  her 
way  within  the  Temple.  Ginevra  still  stood  there,  a 
living  statue  ;  for  all  senses  except  that  of  feeling 
had  been  restored  to  her.     At  the  sight  of  Urganda 


THE  NEW  ORIS  ELD  A  323 

the  colour  fled  away  from  her  cheek,  and  she  closed 
her  eyes  in  fear,  not  knowing  whether  some  new  spell 
might  not  be  presently  laid  upon  her  by  the  power  of 
the  Fairy.  Edma  paused,  and  at  the  sight  drew  his 
sword  and  rose  violently  forward  to  bar  the  way  to 
Ginevra. 

"You  !— ah  !  how  have  I  been  deceived,"  cried  he. 
"  You,  my  mother,  the  cause  of  all  this  sorrow.  Alas  ! 
are  we  not  safe  even  here  from  your  power,  Urganda.^" 

"  Fear  me  no  longer,"  answered  the  Fairy  ;  and  a 
look  of  love  and  gentleness,  such  as  Edma  remem- 
bered of  old,  came  over  her  face  as  she  spoke :  **  Fear 
me  no  longer  !  my  task  is  done.  Ginevra's  love  and 
patience  have  been  tried  to  the  uttermost,  and  she 
has  remained  ever  faithful.  I  know  her  heart,  and  I 
know  that  no  thought  disloyal  or  impatient  has 
crossed  it." 

They  both  looked  towards  Ginevra  for  a  moment, 
and  were  silent. 

"  Do  not  ask  me,"  Urganda  presently  continued  ; 
for  she  saw  Edma  would  have  spoken,  and  she  could 
easily  foretell  his  words  :  "  do  not  ask  me  zvJiy  this 
trial  has  been  laid  upon  her.  Let  it  be  enough  for 
you  to  know,  it  is  the  last  trial  of  your  patience — that 
what  I  have  done  has  been  not  of  my  own  will,  but 
as  the  force  of  circumstance  has  laid  upon  me.  It 
was  written  above  that  it  should  be  so,  and  let  that 
be  enough.     For  what  regards  myself,  my  son — for 


324  FIVE  DA  YS'  ENTERTAINMENTS 

what  regards  myself,  I  have  done  all  in  love  to  you  ; 
nay,  has  it  not  been  all  as  a  dream  ?" 

"  It  has  been  as  a  dream,"  answered  Edma,  thought- 
fully ;  "  and  yet,  alas  !  also  as  a  reality." 

''  Believe  me,  as  the  years  go  by,  it  will  all  be  as  a 
dream  to  you  and  to  her,"  said  Urganda,  "  if  even  as 
a  dream  you  can  recall  it.  But  the  time  for  awaken- 
ing is  at  hand.  If  I  am  come  now,  it  is  to  set  Ginevra 
free,  and  to  call  you  back  with  her  to  your  palace  and 
your  kingdom,  there  to  dwell  together  in  happiness." 

"  So  oe  it,"  said  Edma  ;  "  So  be  it,"  said  Ginevra,  as 
she  stood,  fixed  and  motionless  ;  and  then  Urganda, 
stepping  up  to  the  Princess,  gently  touched  her  lips 
and  uplifted  her  hand.  At  this  moment  the  Green 
Bird,  winging  his  way  like  a  lightning-flash  within  the 
Temple,  flew  thrice  round  her  head,  and  then  darting 
through  the  opening  of  the  roof  above,  was  lost  from 
sight  in  the  depths  of  the  blue  sky.  The  last  portion 
of  that  heavy  curse  fell  from  Ginevra.  With  the  sense 
of  feeling,  as  it  shot  like  a  sunbeam  through  her  whole 
frame  and  person,  all  her  old  self  was  restored  to  her. 
She  not  only  could  see  and  hear,  but  could  feel  that 
it  was  she  who  heard  and  saw,  and  that  other  human 
creatures  like  her  were  about  her.  Urganda  led  her 
gently  forward,  and  placed  her  hand  in  Edma's ;  and 
when  her  fingers  were  clasped  in  his,  Ginevra,  who  had 
for  so  many  days  patiently  looked  on  Edma,  thinking 
it  was  his  will  that  she  should  sufl"er   so    strangely, 


THE  NEW  GRISELDA  3^5 

knew  that  she  had  awakened  from  the  magic  dream. 
All  doubt,  and  fear,  and  sorrow  passed  away  from  her 
like  a  cloud  :  and  with  a  cry  of  joy  and  love  she 
threw  herself  into  his  arms,  and  the  reward  of  her 
patience  was  accomplished. 


*'  Thanks,  dear  Mamma,  thanks,"  cried  Lucy,  breath- 
lessly, when  Mrs.  Wentworth  had  ended. 

"  Thanks,"  said  Arthur. 

''  Thanks,"  cried  the  rest  of  the  children. 

"  Thanks,  thanks,  and  evermore  thanks — is  this  all 
they  can  give  } "  said  Miss  Cobham. 

"  Children's  thanks,  and  their  love  with  their 
thanks,"  answered  the  lady  with  a  smile.  "  But  what 
more  would  we  have,  after  all  t "  said  she,  more  gravely, 
looking  round  upon  the  little  party  (May  19,  1852)  : — 
"  What  more  1     Is  not  this  enough  ?" 


Then  the  children  all  scattered  themselves,  and 
some  of  them  began  to  talk  over  the  five  days'  enter- 
tainments which  they  had  themselves  given  and 
listened  to,  and  others  to  play  at  more  games  than  I 
have  here  space  to  tell  of;  and  besides,  I  am  afraid 
of  tiring  you,  MY  LITTLE  DARLINGS,  all  the  world 
over,  for  whom  these  stories  have  been  written  out. 
But  whilst  they  were  playing,  the  clock  struck  seven, 


J 


26  FIVE  DA  YS'  ENTERTAINMENTS 


and  Mrs.  Wentworth  looked  at  Miss  Cobham,  and 
cried  out  to  her  own  little  one,  "  Why,  Lucy  ! "  On 
which  Lucy  looked  up  and  coloured,  and  said,  *'  Am 
I   to  say  my  hymn,  Mamma  ? " 

"  Yes,  dear,  I  think  so  ;  because  my  little  Lucy  has 
been  laughing  and  playing,  she  would  not  wish  to 
leave  God  out,  would  she  ? "  On  hearing  which,  the 
other  children  were  all  as  quiet  as  mice  in  a  moment, 
and  Eleanor  came  up  and  gave  Lucy  a  kiss,  which 
encouraged  her,  and  she  said  her  little  verses  in  a  low 
voice  : — 


Thou  that  once,  on  mother's  knee, 
Wert  a  httle  one  like  me, 
When  I  wake  or  go  to  bed 
Lay  thy  hands  about  my  head  ; 
Let  me  feel  thee  very  near, 
Jesus  Christ,  our  Saviour  dear. 


Be  beside  me  in  the  light, 
Close  by  me  through  all  the  night 
Make  me  gentle,  kind,  and  true, 
Do  what  mother  bids  me  do  ; 
Help  and  cheer  me  when  I  fret, 
And  forgive  when  I  forget. 


Once  wert  thou  in  cradle  laid. 
Baby  bright  in  manger-shade, 
With  the  oxen  and  the  cows, 
And  the  lambs  outside  the  house  : 
Now  thou  art  above  the  sky  ; 
Canst  thou  hear  a  baby  cry  ? 


THE  END  327 


Thou  art  nearer  when  we  pray, 
Since  thou  art  so  far  away  ; 
Thou  my  little  hymn  wilt  hear, 
Jesus  Christ,  our  Saviour  dear, 
Thou  that  once,  on  mother's  knee, 
Wert  a  little  one  like  me. 

After  this  Lucy  turned  round  and  ran  off  as  quickly 
as  her  Httle  feet  could  take  her ;  but  when  she  came 
to  the  door,  she  heard  them  all  crying  out,  Good- 
night, darling,  and  she  turned  round  again,  and  looked 
to  her  mother,  and  said  : 

"  Will  you  not  ask  them  all  to  come  again  next 
year.  Mamma  dear,  and  then  I  shall  be  so  much 
wiser  and  taller,  and  perhaps  I  may  try  to  tell  a 
story  too,  like  the  rest  ?    See  how  tall  I  am  already  ! " 

And  then  Lucy  went  into  the  corner  of  the  room, 
by  the  door,  w^iere  a  great  pot  of  pretty  azaleas  was 
standing,  and  stood  up  in  the  corner,  and  measured 
herself  with  a  little  wooden  ruler  that  she  had  picked 
up,  and  said,  "  Look  at  me  now ! " — and  I  am  not 
sure  that  she  did  not  even  get  up  a  little  on  tiptoe 
when  she  saw  the  others  looking.  And  whilst  she 
was  doing  this,  by  the  greatest  good  luck  a  friend 
of  mine,  who  paints  beautifully  and  brightly,  and 
knows  and  loves  children,  came  in  and  made  a  little 
picture  of  her  ;  and  another  friend,  who  also  knows 
his  work  thoroughly,  made  a  lovely  little  print  after 
the  picture;  and  THERE  SHE  IS,  on  the  first 
page   of  this   very  book. — What  a  little  duck  !  say 


328  FIVE  DAYS'  ENTERTAINMENTS 

I  ;  .  .  .  and  I  hope  every  one  will  say  the  same  who 
looks  at  her. 


^nt)  of  i\t  (fibc  Jlans'  ^ntcrlainments 


R.    CI. AY,    SON,    AND    TAVI.OR,    PRINTERS,    BREAD    STREET    HILL. 


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